LIB-RARY OF CONGRESS. 



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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



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/2 67^,0/ 

HARVEST. 

.A^ :viEi_j_A.isrc3-ii] 

EELATING 

TO BROOKLYN CITY IN PARTICULAR 

AND 

TO THE WORLD GENERALLY. 

BY 

JOHN A. ARMSTRONa, 
COUNSELLOR- AT-LAW. 

^5 



,,1)it Siat^en fatten unb ber ^txi>\\ begtnnt." 






BROOKLYN, E. D. : 4 



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Bd<*a.r Dabbbs, Pbinteb, No 157 SouTH-Piaar Street. 
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Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by John A. Armstrong 
in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



irffatofj} iotc. 



Some time in the fall of 1862, the author of the following pages, from beiag 
an occasional, became a constant contributor to the Press, between intervals 
of study in preparing himself for the legal profession. His offerings, mostly 
of a light and unsentimental nature, were well received, and subsequently, 
(March, 1864), on being solicited, he connect«d himself with one of the daily 
papers, and gave to it exclusively eight of the best years of his life. They were 
not wasted years ; for with the consciousness of having, to the best of his ability , 
without fear or favor, done what he conceived, and still conceives, to be a journ- 
alist's duty, he retains many pleasant assurances and mementoes of honorable 
approval, together with the friendship of many noble-minded men, with wkom 
he was first brought into contact by the accidents and events which it wae his 
business to chronicle. During this period of journalistic experience, terminated 
by his resignation, in order to engage in the practice of the law, there appeared 
from his pen, under many noms de plume, a number of Comic Ballads, Epi- 
grams, &c., a very inconsiderable portion of which the following pages comprise. 
The incidents on which they are founded will, he doubts not, be pleasantly re- 
called by their perusal to the minds of at least a large number of friends and 
acquaintances ; and in this pleasing expectation, rather than in the delusive 
belief that their possible merits will make them more extensively known, they 
are here unambitiously submitted by 

Thk AcT«oa. 
Brooklyn. October 22d, 1872, 



\MmI$ di tfii/giir0li. 



YE LAY OF YE HOUSELESS HOWARD. 

On Tuesday came to Mrs. Ketcham's house, a houseless wight. 
He asked if he could have a room. She answered that he might. 
The terms were ires agreahles ; and then, from such as he, 
So well he showed in mien and mode— what need of referee V 
The name he gave, a name of fame in old Northumberland, 
Was Howard, and he bore a well-filled carpet bag in hand. 
He got the room. Yet, mindful of what passed not long ago, 
Perhaps she should have asked him if his Christian name was Joe. 
On AVednesday rang the breakfast bell, and high the savory fumes 
Went up like incense to the gods and reached the farthest rooms. 
And, one by one, and two by two, in slippers and in gown, 
Warned by the bell and savory smell, the guests came hastening 

down. 
"Why lingers still Lord Sarrey ? How unlike his sires of old ! 
Why lingers still Lord Surrey ? Steak and coffee will be cold. " 
" Hie to his chamber, little page." The page rushed up and cried, 
"The breakfast waits, Lord Surrey!" but no voice within replied. 
The little page's face grew pale. He jDaused. No answer. Then, 
While knee smote knee for sudden fear, he hastened back again. 
" lady liege, at thy behest, I to the chamber hied, 
And said, 'Lord Surrey, breakfast waits,' but not a voice replied. " 
Quick, at the words, o'er all that bright assembly came a glooii}. 
And Nature seemed to make a pause portentive of her doom. 
Paused in its course, the fork that to the mouth its meat raised up : 
The hand relaxed its grasp, too, on the handle of the cup. 
A moment past, and all was mirth ; but changed was all how soon ! 
So have we seen the sun o'ercast by a thunder-cloud in June. 
' ' What ails Lord Surrey ?" Doubts and fears appear in every face ; 
'Tis plain that something terrible has just now taken place. 
" Ho ! who will open his chamber door?" "I will," a gallant said, 
Stands forth — is followed. It is done. "What's here?" Aa 

empty bed ! 
"But Where's the Howard?" "He's not here!" "Not here!" 

" No 1" " Are you sure ?" 
" What mean this paper and these bricks that lie about the floor?" 
"Where is the Howard's carpet bag?" "Both gone!" 'Twas 

all too true. 
Cries some one — "Sacre! my two coats have gone, 

them, too." 



6 HARVEST. 

OFF TO LITTLE NECK. 

"GiYE me the lines!" The lines were passed, the lash light 

waved, and lo ! 
Forth leaped the Flushing courser as the bolt leaps from the bow, 
And round him wrapped the rider the warm hide of the buffalo. 
Ho ! man of the hostelry, thy trust to give with so small reck ! 
You should have obtained a deposit in greenbacks or a cheque, 
And your horse and wagon would, ere now, have been back from 

Little Neck. 



THE GREENPOINT OYSTER MERCHANT. 
The oyster merchant paused at morn, and taking out his purse, 
Gave fifty dollars to his wife to be the week's resource. 
Then, having kissed her tenderly, he said "Dear wife, good day ! 
Bear light my absence, love, till I come back from Oyster Bay. " 
'Twas hard to p irt, and down his cheek there went a briny rill, 
And Catherine weeping too, replied "I will, my love, I will." 
He took the tiller in his hand. The breeze blew fair that day, 
Nor long 'twas till his anchor's fluke took hold in Oyster Bay. 
By set of sun, his work was done ; his hold was freighted well, 
And as his sail swelled with the breeze, he felt his bosom swell. 
*'0 breeze !" he said, " speed on ahead and breathe in Catherine's 

ear, 
* ' Thy doting lord is on his way and shortly will be here ." 
He came, he saw, ah ! not the scene his ardent fancy drew : 
His house was closed, his spouse was gone and all his money too. 
And now he stays, poor lonely man, attending to a tap, 
And tells to every friend that comes, the tale of his mishap. 
And some he finds who show for him a sympathy sincere, 
And tears flow fast as they converse, and so does — lager beer. 



THE MAN WHO JUMPED TO REACH THE BOAT. 

Up he rose at six precisely, washed his face and "fixed" his hair — 
Paid a newsboy for a paper, but read very little there, — 
Then, having sent some cakes and scalding cofl'ee down his throat, 
Out he rushed and down South-Seventh street, in haste to catch 

the boat, 
" Ha ! well met !" a friend exclaims, to whom he owes a little bill, 
(And to whom, from all appearances, he'll likely owe it still ;) 
"Ah dear boy," he says, "excuse me : I will call and pay that 

note ; 
But, just now, you see, I'm pressed^or time : I want to catch the 

boat.*' 



HARYEvST. t 

On ha hurries — strikes an apple-stand in front of the hotel, 
Sends the apples and the apple-stand about the street iiell-mell. 
Rage of apple-vender awful ; but his words we will not quote. 
*' Jtf' excusez vout, dear sir ; but I'm in haste to catch the boat." 
Oh confusion worse confounded than the Labyrinth of Crete ! 
Horses, wagons, carts and carriages completely fill the street ; 
Each is eager to be foremost through the gates, to get afloat. 
"Oh dear me! this jam is shocking, and I want to catch th© 

boat." 
Oh, what noisy objurgation ! Ha ! two,carmen in a fight! 
Crowd grows denser. Dave McFarland, the policeman, comes in 

sight. 
Tim O'Dowd is nabbed while squeezing Dick McLaughlin** 

slender throat. 
<' There's the bell! Oh— well, confound this muss ; I'll never catch 

the boat." 

Round and round the windlass goeth ; up two stout men haul 

the plank. 
^ To the ferry bridge thrown forward, fall the boat-chains with a 

clank. 
Roars the funnel ; swirl the paddles ; out she goes ! They're ail 

afloat. 
Down the ferry bridge he rushes for a jump to reach the boat. 

*'Baek!" the deck-hands cry with gestures that of danger 

intimate ; 
But he must be in New York by seven and therefore cannot wait. 
Ofif he leai a, and the next moment a loud splash the people note, 
And in the water struggles one who jumped to reach the boat. 
How the women scream to see him ! How their male companions 

swear ! 
None can save him ; for, alas, there are no corks nor boat-hooks 

there. 
*' What's the matter?" asks a stranger. Says a little sans oulotte, 
"Only a cove as has been drowned wot jumped to reach the 

boat." 

In a very few days after, out near Greenpoint he is found. 
When the tide receding leaves him high and dry upon the ground. 
Coroner Barrett* from the "4:7th," receives a little note— 
"Body found— supposed of some one who has fallen from a 
boat." 



* John Barrett Esq., of Greenpoint, an honest man, and one of the moat 
gentlemanly officials ever elected in Kings County. 



8 HARVEST. 

Twelve sagacious men are mustered and the verdict they 

proclaim, 
On viewing all the evidence, is— "Nobody to blame- 
Ferry Companies have no time to our safeties to devote : 
The feller fell because the feller jumped to reach the boat." 



OH MY UMBRELLA ! 

A LAY or NEW TEAB's DAY. 

I met, to-day, out near Broadway, * a very pleasant fellow, 

He smoked a very fine cigar and had a new umbrella, 

I saw him mount a brown stone stoop. He stopped to make a calL 

He laid his new umbrella on the table in the hall ; 

And beside his new umbrella, shining brightly as a star, 

He laid upon the table too his half consumed cigar. 

In he ventures ! In the drawing room what bewitching forms he 

sees ! 
Not on the Cydnus Egypt's Queen arrayed like one of these ! 
He wishes all a "happy year," talks weather and, in fine. 
Not very loth, is tempted to partake of cake and wine. 
He rises and effects a graceful exit, and once more 
I see him as he issues forth but not as seen before. 
His new umbrella is destroyed. Of all its shade bereft. 
The iron ribs, a skeleton, are all that now is left. 
No shred of silk is to be seen. How came this to befall ? 
From leaving his cigar upon the table in the hall. 



Mb. TIMOIHY O'FLANAGAN'S ACCOUNT OF "THE 
MUSEUM" NEW YOEK. 
Well, sich curosities an' sich monsthrocities 

An' all things quhare that walk or crawl or shwim, 
Me fellow nayburs, sure the likes, bejabers, 

I never seed sins I was christened Tim ! 
Chaps music skilled in, outside the buildin' 

Upon a balkenny keep up a din, 
Wid fiddles goin', and big bugles blowin' 

To plaze the folks, an' git them to come in. 
Aint it a scandal to see them handle 

Their fifes an' fiddles wid no shame at all, 
Fornenst the porch there of yondher church there 

Right in the holy presence of Saint Paul ? 

* Part of Division Avenue, then so called. 



II A R TEST. 

Oh grand apostle, the,y use you most ill, 

Thy holy ears bewildherin' ivery day 
Wid ''Mrs. Teazle,'' " Pop goe.<^ the Weazle," 

An' '' Roheri Ridley 0," an' '' Ould Dog Ihraij." 
Porthraits delicious of bastes an' fishes 

Are hung up outside in the public view, 
Wid snaiks prodigious, an' reptiles hideous. 

Say horses huge an' alligators too. 
An' outside standiu', a gent is handin' 

Long bills of all that's to be seen within, 
(A nate young fellow) but I may's well tell ye 

That you can't enther, if ye've got no tin. 
The sights that's there, sir are beyant compare, sir . 

Great gods and hayroes all done in wax, 
Wid saints an' sages an' birds in cages. 

An' naughty monkeys lyin' on their backs, 
Makin' grimaces wid their hairy faces. 

Or scratching themselves fiercely wid their nails. 
Their oatmale scattherin' or shrilly chattherin'. 

Or tyin' knots on one another's tails. 
While I was standiu', each objeck scannin', 

A shriek of agenny did rend the air. 
I looked, an' that boy they caUs tho Fat Boy 

Had got the ould Albino be the hair. 
"Hillo! hillo ! there," sez I, "let go there !" 

But loose his hold the darned young cuss would not 
Until both falling sent a glass case sprawling, 
Upsettin' Kowshoot an' Sir Walther Scott*' 
There right before ye, is Queen Victoria, 

A faymale wid a lot of famous males. 
Far be it from me, not to mintion " Tom7ny" 

An' his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales. 
On shelves are seatthered, small fragments shatthered, 

From rocks such as geology describes. 
While ranged in ordher, or hung up wid cord a-e 

Poles, spikes an' spear-hjads of the Indian thribes. 
To the "What is it," we ped a visit, 
A craythur very amiable an' cute. 
In hue and figger very like a nigger 

That had gone in and cum ouTthrough a flute. 
Who e'er saw babies like the ''Whai-can-they-be'sf" 

I hope that mine will ne'er be such a sight : 
A two-headed babby must be awful gabby. 
An' I don't like to be disturbed at ni<^ht! 



10 HARVEST. 

There, sight uncommon, a lovely woman 

Has hair meandherin' down onto her heels. 
There, in acquarlas, is fishes various, 

Bass, pike an' throut an' ivery kind of eels, 
Some deeply shwimmin' an' others skimmin* 
The waveless surface ov the wather clear ; 
Big fishes foUerin' an' sometimes swallerin' 

Such little fishes as perchance comes near. 
Sez I "be thundher!" as I watched, wid wondher, 

Their curious capers, through their glassy wall, 
" Me playful fishes, if I had me wishes, 

I'd make a chowdher, of ye great and small." 
We passed some sthrictures upon the pictures 

Of famous pickpockets, some nine or ten, 
Not without pity for to think this city 

Has lost, in them, some right good Councilmen, 
All kinds o' villins, here for two shillins, 
Wid kings and imperors ye do behold ; 
Emanuel Victor, likewise the boa Gonsthridor, 

An' the say-horse that's lookin' very old. 
But onward walkin' I heerd lo:id talkin', 
And seed a parson sittin' on a thrunk ; 
Of zeal the pictur' while he gave a lecture 

To the Livin' Skeleton for gettin' dhrunk. 
But nayburs, nayburs, I'm tired, be jabers, 

I could'ut tell ye all that I seed there — 
I seed Jack Shepard and the camel leopar:!. 

The huge gorilla, and the grizzly bear. 
But I must pause now, my friends, because now, 

Ere I'd get through the night would be passed by 
This subjeck pleasant, we'll waive for the present, 
"So pass the whisky, for I'm mighty dhry. "* 



HANS KLEIN. 

Young Hans Klein was a bar-boy fine. 

In a Ewen street beer saloon. 
But the war coming on, in " 'Sixty-one," 

He enlisted — I think, in June. 
Honor's place he sought. He was not bought — 

No substitute he. It appears, 

* The concluding line is not claimed as original. I think it occurs in one of 
the Ingoldsby pieces. It is doubtful if it was original there either. I think I 
have often heard it before. ANNOTATOft. 



HARVEST. 11 

None braver was reckoned in the Fifty-Second 
New York State Volunteers, 

Than Young Hans Klein, 
The bar-boy fine, 
The boy of soul and honor. 

Young Hans Klein loved a maid divine, 

And ere, to the war, he did hie. 
He bought ear-rings two, set with gems of blue, 

For her to remember him by. 
He sought for her a photographer, 

And was "taken," a soldier bold ; 
And the picture to wear on her breast so fair, 
He had rimmed with with what shone like gold. 
Young Hans Klein, 
The bar-boy fine. 

The boy of soul and honor. 

With his regiment, to the war he went. 

And he fought " mit Siegel " too ; 
But, while Hans down South, faced the cannon's mouth 

Katrina at home was untrue. 
And to him came word, of what had occurred, 

And poor Hans was grieved to the soul, 
And a letter did send to an intimate friend. 
In the street called Meserole. 
Young Hans Klein, 
The bar-boy fine. 

The boy of soul and honor. 

The letter ran — " As soon as you can, 

To the false Katrina go. 
And get back the ear-rings and the other things, 

I gave her not long ago." 
The name, I think, of the friend was Schenck, 

And he went, at poor Hans' request. 
'* Katerina " said he, " you veel geef to me 
Dese geefts off mine frient. It ish pest. 
Mine frient Hans Klein, 
De par-poy fine 

De poy of soul unt honor." 

Katrina looked mad. " Dese geefts I've had, 

But Hans was scarce gone, when, alack, 
De rings, I wash told, were made of gold, 

Dey become most suprisingly black. 



12 HARVEST. 

De locket too, took anoder hue, 

Unt my heart, too (wash it strange ?) 
"When dis schange I do see, in vat he geef me 
Did also begin to schange. 

Towards de young Hans Klein 
De par-poy fine, 

De poy of soul unt honor. " 

She then told Schenck where the offerings ware. 

And he paid her for tickets twain ; 
For the goods were in " pop " at a pawnbroker's shop, 

And he went there to get them again. 
The ear-rings, alas, had turned into brass 
And the locket, too, looked very queer, 
And the man whose phiz, it now compasses, is 
A big brewer of lager beer. 

Not the phiz of Hans Klein, 
The bar-boy fine. 

The boy of soul and honor. 

Schenck took back the rings and the other things, 

And he wrote to Hans Klein that night. 
And Hans Klein, when he read what Katrina said 

And how of his gifts she made light. 
He was first very sad, and he then got mad 

And fell down after he ran 
To the fight's hottest part, with twelve balls in his heart. 
Like — a patriotic man. 

Did the young Hans Klein 
The bar-boy fine 

The boy of soul and honor. 



"WHERE HAS THE BUTCHER GONE, SONNY?" 
The meat hooks all are empty in the large and lonesome stall, 
Nor more the uplifted cleaver on the block is heard to falL 
Mrs. Grub comes with her basket— (once a week she's wont to 

treat 
Her much enduring boarders to the luxury of meat) 
She looks on the deserted place and then, in huge surprise, 
She says "Wall— neow — Lor' bless me!" (and she opens wide 

her eyes,) 
* ' Much I wonder if I'm dreaming, or 'tis real what I look on. 
Can it be that the pork butcher who stopped here is dead and 

gone?*' 



HARVEST. IS 

And she calls a little ragged boy— "Ho! sonny, tell me true, 
What number has the butcher who lived hereabouts moved to ?" 
And she thinks the boy will tell her, but the artful urch'n won't ; 
For he thinks she wants to " sell him," and he answers — 'No ye 
deon"t." 

THE BULL CHASE IN GREENPOINT. 

(Sept. 6th, 1867, 3 P. M.) 
Through Union avenue there passed in lightning-like career, 
"With low-held horns and foaming mouth, a fierce an \ frantic- 
steer. 
Way for the raging ' ' animile !" ye children in the street ! 
Way for the racking "animile" advancing on ye fleet ! 
The children fly (and so do I.) Ho ! hunters famed in son.^, 
Dotten, and Lent and Debevoise, why tarrj' ye so long ? 
Not now we note, or dog or goat ; no trivial game is her3 ; 
Come forth, come forth, ye merry men, and chase the bounding 

steer. 
Forth came the valiant hunters against the furious brute, 
And many a valiant citizen too, joined in the pursuit. 
Far, far down LTnion avenue they chase him many a rood ; 
His large eye burns ! But hold, he turns ; pursuers are pursued. 
See, near the beast, a citizen already quickly draw 
And offer him some hay ; but he, for hay don't care a straw. 
He heeded not the pound that in the distance darkly frowns ; 
Down go to earth five citizens, and up goes Mr. Downs. 
That Kings are hedged about by no divinity, 'tis clear ; 
For one, at all events, is floored by that confounded steer. 
"Quick, bring a rope of stoutest hemii!" The rope is brought 

at last. 
And deftly o'er and round the horns the artful noose is passed. 
The rope they fasten to a cart (the cart before the steer), 
And the steer don't drag along the cart, but the dragged cart 

drags the steer. 
Huzza! well done ! — he's in the pound ; brave citizens rejoice. 
And pledge, in foam-crowned bumpers, Dotten, Lent and 
Debevoise. 



CLAM-.iNT IN EREMO. 

(Feb'y 12th, 1868.) 
A merry party, yesterday, as any you could raise. 
Went from the 'Burgh to Whitestone Beach, in two well-ordered 
sleighs. 



14 HARVEST. 

They carried with them spades and shovels, Bourbon, bread and 

hams. 
And wherefore, prithee, did they go? They went to gather 

clams. 
But when thoy came to Whitestone Beach, as come they did at 

last, 
They found they could get "nary clam," they were frozen down 

so fast. 
They sought the unattainable till all around grew dark. 
And the lean dogs at Whitestone Beach, kex)t up an endless bark. 
Back to the 'Burgh in hope's frustration, then they came and 

cried : 
*' Curst be the beach where clogs are loose, and only clams are 

tied!" 

THE RECONCILIATION. 
Julia, wife of Barney Lyon, 
Sat within her bed-room, crying. 

Crying all the weary day ; 
Barney, Barney, cruel Barney 
Who had won her heart with blarney, 

Suddenly had gone away. 
Down her cheeks, of tears, a mether, * 
Not to be repressed, there came, 
Fast as rain in April weather. 
And she slapped her hands together, 

Calling on her Barnej^'s name. 
' ' Barney, Barney, cruel Barney, 
Why did I believe yer blarney?" 
While the hapless Mrs. Lyon, 

Counting o'er a pile of 'Hin,^^ 
Sat within her bed-room crying, 

Mrs. Caliban came in. 
"Mrs. Lyon, wherefore cryin', 

What's the matther here to-day ?" 
" Och, don't ax me," Julia answered — 

" Sure me Barney's gone away ;" 
And again, of tears a mether 

Not to be repressed, there came. 
Fast as rain in April weather. 
And she slapped her hands together, 

Calling on her Barney's name. 

* AngUcQ— firkin. 



HARVEST. 15 



"Barney, Barney, cruel Barney, 
Why did I believe yer blarney ?" 

' ' What, " said Mrs. Caliban, 

"And is Barney such a man ? 

Sure ye won't be alther sayin'. 

What ye 've toult uie now is thrue !" 
To and fro, her body swajnng, 

Mrs. Lyon sobbed — "I do — 

Boh-hoo, boh-hoo, and wirra-sthme." 
Mrs. Caliban mildly queried : 
"Did he take the money too ?" 

" No, my dear, I had it hid ; 
T secured it — well I did; 

For, being thrown out of omploymint, 
Barney, bint on high enjoy mint. 

Axed to have the cash to-day. 
And, bekase I would not let him, 

Wbra sthrue, he's gone away. 
Och, I fear he'll dhrive me crazy ! " 

"Nothing. Julia, ov the soort, 
Do not be, the laist, onaisy ; 

Go to Justice Dailey's Cooit. 
Stop, 0, stop that brinj"^ torrent ! 

Faith, it aint meself would weep. 
State yer case, and get a warrant, 

Yank McGlynn will sarve it cheap. " 
Julia quickly lulled her sorrow 

And put by her hoarded tin, 
Sought the Judge, and on the morrow, 

Barney's captured by McGlynn, 
Who, while Julia dressed most gaily, 

Followed leisurely behind. 
Brought him before Justice Dailey, 

And, within the ' 'cage, " confined. 
There, in front, sat Justice Dailey, 

Warrants all before him spread ; 
Near him, scamps they call reporters 

Working for their Daily Bread, 
Bothering courteous Mr. Brown, 
While they take their items down. 
' ' Barney Lyon, " said the Justice, 

(Barney thought himseK a "gonner") 
" Barney Lyon !" — Barney trembled, 
As he answered, " Here, yer honner," 



16 HARVEST. 

And the cage being then unbarred 

By our ancient friend Guischard, 

Barney stands, afraid to budge, 

In the presence of the Judge. 

His accuser stands before him, 

And he feels a chill come o'er him. 

The Justice read the warrant and then said, 

" What say you, Barney, to the charge here made, 

That you've abandoned and do now neglect 

The wife you've sworn to cherish and protect ? 

Julia. — In throth ifs so. 

Justice. — Be quiet, madam, do. 

Barney. — Judge, darlint, don't believe her ; it's not 

thrue ; 
But if your honor will just hear me out, 
I'll tell ye how the thrubble kem about. 
Justice. — Go on ; be brief. 

Barney. — I will and thank ye. Judge. 

Julia. — Oh Misther Dailey don't believe his fudge. 
Barney. — I sez to Julia, quietly, sez I, 
Julia, I'm out o' work. Hard times is nigh." 
"That's thrue," sez she ; sez I " 'twas well I gave 
So much of what I've earned to you to save. " 
Wid that she up and sez ' ' I've not yer pelf. 
What cash I have 's belonging to meseltV 
(I kept me temper, tho' 'twas bilin' o'er), 
"I'm going," said she, "to keep a fancy store — 
Sell thread and needles" — "Very good," sez I, 
You're edikated, an 'ts no harm to thrj'- ; 
But av all kinds o' business I suggest, 
A little grocery store would answer best ; 
For, in a grocery store, ye undherstand. 
Myself occasionally could lind a hand ; 
As there's no need of bein' over nate 
In sellin' praties, cabbages and mate. 
And what remained unpurchased on our shelves, 
Ye see, me darlint, we could ate ourselves. " 
It would not do ; she'd have the fancy store 
Whether I pleased or not, and then I swore, 
And she gits ravin' mad at what I said. 
And takes the feather pillow from the bed — 
Laves nothing, even to a spool of thread — 
And off she goes. Just see how well she's dressed : 
These tatthered clothes I've on, judge, is my best 



HARVEST. IT 

To see her flaunt in satins pains me soul 

While I must work in rags and put in coal . 

Julia.-lELe has good clothes, Judge ! there he's incorrect ; 

He puts those rags on only for effect. 

Barney. — Julia, don't think I blame ye, do ye hear ? 

You're good ; but you have bad advisers, dear. 

But I've no help ; come back again, I saj', 

And you'll be welcome as the flowers o' May. 

Jitstice. — Why, woman, did you marry with this man ? 

Julia. — That he might support me, Judge, I ran 

The hazard, not for love. 

Justice. — 'Tis plain to you, 

He has no means. Now what am I to do ? 

If you still press the charge, he won't get bail 

And I must send him to the County Jail. 

Julia. — Judge, for worlds I would not sind him there : 

Barney's not bad, he's only sometimes quhare. 

Justice. — Then, as I understand, you don't insist 

And therefore I declare the case dismissed. 



STEANDED. 

(July 4th, 1868.) 
Yesterday morn, they left the 'Burgh, a party numbering six, 
All of them jolly German men, with bait and fishing sticks. 
They took the cars in South-seventh street, with sinkers and with 

cork. 
And paused at Simonson's awhile, this siile of East New York I 
They took the dummy engine train to seek Jamaica Bay, 
And into the mead and forest land right joyous plunged away. 
The names of the "merrie companie," Muse, tell us, if you will, 
Beams, Bo vers, Astrop, Fadden, Ring, and Tonjes of the mill. 
They stopped at Bay View House awhile, and thence they sailed 

away — • 
With well-tilled sails and well-filled hopes — into Jamaica Bay. 
•'Ill luck, ill luck; by Jove, we're stuck," our friend Fred. 

Bovers cries, 
Phaselus ille quern videtis, on a mud bank lies. 
Spoiled is the sport. The crew get out and toil and toll in vain. 
To carry the craft that carried them, and get her afloat a ^aiu. 
" Run up the flag !" The flag ran up, as squirrel up a tree. 
And speedily came the Boardman down to set the captives free . 
The Boardman took them safe ashore, and they were heard to say, 
' ' We've toiled all day and caught no fish. Farewell, j£miaica Bay. ' ^ 



18 HARVEST. 

FORGOT TO COME BACK. 

(Sept. 30th, 1868.) 
At 2 p. m. , on Saturday, there came, in coat of blue, 
To Hamilton's Fourth street hostelrie, a youth of twenty-two ; 
Of visage fair, and sandy hair, he seemed of gentle strain. 
But sad withal, so sad that to behold him, gave one pain. 
"Lend me thy horse and wagon, friend, that I, at once, may drive 
Away to Calvary Cemetery, and I '11 be back by "five." 
In mournful mood I now would seek, amidst its gloomy bowers, 
The lowly couch of one, once dear, and strew it o'er with 

flowers." 
A tear stole down the young man's cheek, and Hamilton's heart 

felt sad. 
And he, of horses and wagons, lent the very best he had. 
.Slowly the young man drove away at a funereal pace. 
And 5 o'clock arrived, but did not bring the young man's face. 
Still Hamilton waits in his hostelrie, though his hopes are far 

from strong. 
That the fair-complexioned, sorrowful chap will be back again ere 

long. 

THE GOOSE MARCH ON BEDFORD AVENUE. 

(Aug. 12, 1868.) 
Feom Hooper street, last evening, marched, of geese, some forty- 
two. 
And kept their line in order fine, as crack militia do. 
They marched not of their own free will, but as a captive band, 
A sturdy Ethiopian being the general in command. 
Before him went the poultry, all down Bedford Avenue, 
While he waved aloft a cudgel and cried now and then "Shoo! 

shoo !" 
Hurry on, brave Ethiopian ; hear the sound:^ the zephyrs bear ! 
See the dust that's raised by women and by children in the rear! 
Rich is the Avenue in sights most fair to look upon. 
And none of them more glorious than the grand church »f St. 

John. 
But heed not, heed not, at this moment, sights, howe'er subUme, 
IFor if you do, I do not think you'll reach the pound in time. 
Too late, too late. The crowd already closes on his rear, 
And a big female fist is firmly anchored in his hair. 
"Fly to the front and turn the line," Penthesilea cries- - 
Forth to the front with that intent a little urchin flies. 
liO ! from the Amazonian clutch, the Ethiop breaks away ! 



HARVEST. 19 

Stand from before his battle mace, else ye shall nie the day. 
"Baughn to the rescue!" rose the cry, and a brare kuight was 

seen 
RuBking from yonder quiet "shades," the combatants between. 
His squire too rushed amid the strife ; both, though they had no 

swoids, 
Champions self-offered then and there, of those who owned the 

birds. 
Down sank the club a moment, and with tumult and lou 1 din, 
While held the Ethiop's hands the knight, the angry crowd 

closed in. 
Alas, just then a Geraldine, disguised as an M. P., 
Came up, and all again became as calm as calm could be. 
The Ethiop to the goose pound then continued on his way. 
With all the birds but one, whose neck was fractuied in the fray. 



HOW DOBSON PAID HIS BOARD. 

Theee came to Mr. Holt's pension, a day or two ago, 

A youth whose mode and mien evinced the sentiment de beau. 

He asked to have a room and board, and did not ask in vain ; 

For one of his address and dress — to ask was to obtain. 

The name he gave was Dobson. He referred to certain firms, 

And all things being suitable, they closed upon the terms. 

While seated in the parlor, Dobson felt the hours move slow ; 

As he heard the noise of sharpening knives come from the realms 

below. 
At last! at last! suspense is past! Loud sounds the joyous gong! 
And, one by one, and two by two, downstairs the boarders throng. 
And Dobson there, so debonair, among the rest is placed ; 
He's serve I as well as seated ; but he eats with shocking haste. 
His jaws are filled ; his eyes protrude ; nor does he heed who 

stares. 
He's through ahead of all the rest, and, rising, darts up stairs. 
And now the other guests have dined — fair dames and gallant 

men — 
And, one by one, and two by two, they go up stairs again. 
"Ho ! waiter, where's my ov(3rcoat V I hear a boarder cry ; 
" Ho ! waiter, where is mine ?''' exclaims another, standing by, 
"Ho ! waiter, where is Dobson ?" said the host of the cliaieau. 
The waiter said, " An' sure he left just half an hour ago." 



20 HARYKST. 

SONG OF A SEWING MACHINE. 

(July 26, 1869.) 

*TwAS a good machine for sewing either gusset, seam or band. 
Which Count Rudolph chanced to meet with, and he bought it 

second -hand — 
Bought it for the merest trifle at an auction in New York, 
For the penchant of his lady fair was one for needle- work. 
Joyous-hearted was that lady at the purchase Rudolph made, 
And she boasted (she had reason) of her husband's skill in trade, 
" Little said is easy mended." Better had they spoken less. 
Came a message the next morning by the Williamsburgh Express, 
Stating that the *•' chattel mortgage upon the machine was du3-- 
He must come and pay subscriber, or he'd be compelled to 

sue." 
Well, of this he linew the purport. It was dated Try-On-Row, 
And a well-known shyster's signature was legible below. 
Rudolph, gay and pleasant yesterday, to-day is dull and grave.. 
And feels he's been the victim of a veritable "shave." 
Ojff he goes and sees the lawyer ; lawyer bids him go to— Well, 
We won't repeat the utterance ; but the mortgage was a "sell" — 
A sell which Rudolph's friends got up to laugh at Rudolph's cost 
Of time and some Limburger cheese which, coming home, he 

lost. 



CALLED FOR THE CLOTHES. 

In the afternoon of yesterday, a colored man was seen 

Of more than common magnitude, to visit Mr. Dean. 

The door is oped. The negro's face with seeming kindness 
glows. 

And to the servant girl, ho saj's —" Chile, Missus wants de 
clothes." 

The girl, mistrusting nothing wrong then pissed the linen f )i-th, 

A great heap in a basket, fully forty dollars worth. 

And the fellow in the distance " mizzled ' fast and far away ; 

And the colored washerwoman came and asked " what clothes to- 
day ?" 

And the servant up and told her that her husband had been 
there 

And had got the clothes already, and a goodly pile they were. 

"Lor bless ye, chile. I has no man as everybody knows, 

The great big, thievin' scDuadrel, he hab fleeced you ob your 
clothes." 



HARVEST. 21 

AN INCIDENT OF THE SECOND BATTLE OF BULL RUN. 

On the second day of the latter Bull Run, 

I saw four soldiers sadly 
Carrj'iiig another " son of a gun" 

Who appeared to be wounded badly. 
Nimbly towards the rear they went, 

Though the blanket w is heavily loaded, 
When a screeching shell from a distance sent, 

Rightover their heads exploded ! 
The four, at once, relaxed their hold ; 

For it was'nt a time to be hampered. 
Down on the ground their burden rolled. 

And off like hares they scampered. 
But what became of the wounded man ? 

Was that a way to treat him ? 
Lor' bless you, he, too, jumped up and ran 

And, darned, if he did'nt beat them. 



THE MAGIC LANTERN. 
(At the Fair of Bedford Avenue Reformed Church. ) 

(Dec. 1870.) 
Wonderful affair ! 

On a canvass sheet. 
Pictures rich and rare, 

Come and vanish fleet. 
Here's an ancient manse, 

(Home of titled ease) 
There a lake's expanse, 

Sparkles through the trees. 
Presto ! they are gone ! 

Here's a fearful pother — 
One of two "made one" 

Walloping the other. 
Lo ! another change ! 

Here's a man that's hurt ill 
Cursed with visions strange — 

All from eating turtle. 
Who says "dance you can't ; 

'Tis against the rule?" 
There's an elephant 

Dancing a pas seul. 



22 HARVEST. 

But his stay is short, 

In less than a minute 
Here's a bottle (quart) 

And a Porter in it. 
Wonderful aflfair ! 

Doubtless full of magic, 
Making visions rare, 

Comical and tragia 

A BELL-KINGER'S DBEAM. 

Up in the tower, next-door to the sky, 

Sleep came over the bell-ringer's eye, 

And the bell-ringer nodded, and presently snored^ 

With his hand en rapport with the great bell cord. 

Ha ! he dreams there's a fire, and gives a yell, 

And wakens the great, big, thundering bell. 

A ding and a dong are distinctly reckoned 

And firemen are hurrying away to "The Second.** 

Away they hurry ! collision and crash ! 

Old Thirteen" s Engine is knocked to smash ! 

But where is the fire ? Not one can tell — 

Not even the man who rang the bell. 

Closed in sleep is his drowsy eye 

Up in the tower, next-door to the sky. 

A PIPE LAY. 

He came from Hesse Darmstadt, a man of fair address. 

With meerschaum pipes, of costly mould, a million — more or 

less ; 
Not fairer foam-born Venus looked, to captivate the soul, 
Than graceful undines carved around each pipe's capacious bowl* 
The ocean crossed, New York was reached— the pipes were 

placed in bond, 
The merchant, for the duties, had not wherewith to respond. 
What should he do ? Confound them ! In perplexity and doubt- 
He sought a diamond merchant whom he knew, to "help him 

out." 
The man of diamonds paid the dues ; the pipes were then with- 
drawn — 
The diamond merchant holding them— to save himself— in pawn. 
Time quickly passed away. About a month ago or more 
A stranger came on business to ' he diamond merchant's store. 



HARVEST. 23. 

"Veil, veil; vat do you vants mit me?" His eye the stranger 

wipes, 
And says : "I've found a customer to purchase all your jnpes.'' 
"Mein Gott! you do not tell me so. Veil, now, then, go ahead ; 
You take de pipes and sell them, and I'll see you amply paid." 
The stranger took the pipes and said : "Of that pray have no- 
fear ; 
Ere ten diurnal turns of earth, again will I be here." 
Time quickly passed along ; but never, never from that day. 
Has the diamond merchant looked upon his pipes or on the pay. 
'Tis said for Hesse Darmstadt sails a man of fair address, 
With meei'scbaum pipes, of costly mould, a million, more or less- 



GAEL ANSCHUTZ AND THE KING OF PRUSSIA. 

A BALLAD OF COBLENZ.* 

"Here Anschutz," said the King, whose face a bland expression 

wore. 
As he proifered a gold medal — fifty thalers worth or more — 
''Take this medal. Higher none than thou in our opinion ranks." 
Anschutz bowing took the medal and returned the Kiug his 

thanks. 
The King rose up and went his way. Carl Anschutz and hia 

friends 
Sit merrily together at a Wirthsluius near Coblenz. 
Carl held the medal up and said — "See fifty thalers here ; 
We'll pledge the King to its full worth in Rhenish and in beer," 
They had a merry time of it. The noble wine went round, 
And, oft and oft, the goblet to the monarch's health was crowned. 
And merry songs of students all around were heard to swell, 
And mingle with the airs that fanned the Rhine and the Moselle. 
Some time after, came Carl Anschutz to the Court and saw the 

King, 
W^ho welcomed him as cordially as nature doth the Spring. 
"Ho, Anschutz, where's your medal? Lost or carried off by 

stealth ?" 
"May it please you, sire," he answered up, "we drank it to your 

health." 
The monarch, thereupon, his shoulder very gently seized. 
And very gently shook him, but was not too much displeased. 

* Perhaps in apology for Carl, it may be said that he was at the time of tht 
occurence here alluded to, a young student and a revolutionist. 



24 HARVEST. 

WHISKEY IN COLUMBIA COUNTY. 

(August 1st, 1871.) 
This is the t^le of one George Vale, 

A man of liberal bounty, 
Who, for over a week, has been to seek 

Fresh air in Columbia County. 
There lives his brother, and with him and another, 

George went from objects mural, 
In a wagon or shay, to spend the day 

Amid scenery ' ' truly rural. " 
But going along they soon grew dry ; 

For the dust in the road was frisky, 
And they did sigh for a glass of rye, 

Or some old Kentucky whiskey. 
" Ho ! here's a place," with brightening faco, 

One exclaimed, as an inn he sighted. 
*• That's so ; ho, ho !" and the horse went slow- 
Then paused, as they all alighted. 
Into the hostel the trio passed. 

From the fiery sun of summer, 
And in front of the bar, with quid and cigar, 

Sat many an ancient bummer. 
*' Come up to the bar?" said the generous Vale, 

(He meant to treat the whole of them); 
And some took whiskey, and some took ale. 

Did any say nay ? Not a soul of them. 
But George took note that the whiskey poured, 

Was a curious, colorless fluid ; 
And he thought he'd see "how the old thing worked, 

Ere trying himself to do it. 
Well, two of the bummers drank it down, 

And George looked up in their faces; 
And made up his mind it was'nt "sound," 

They made such strange grimaces. 
Into the sawdust he emptied his glass, 

(No bummer observed the disaster); 
And he called his dog saying, ' ' lick up that, " 

And the dog obeyed his master. 

Poor dog ! man's friend most fast and tirm. 

Fidelity's truest martyr; 
At once he keeled over, gave a squirm, 

And was dead in two minutes " arter." 



HARVEST. 25 

AN INCIDENT OF ST. PATRICK'S DAY. 

Am— Mother may I go out to swim? 
Excellent ale is Taylor's ale ; 

It sparkles in the glasses ; 
{Oiie Alderman says it is cheaper far, 

And better to taste than Bass's) 
John Kinsley is Taylor's agent here, 
And John has a horse and wagon, 
"With which he carries it far and near, 

In barrel, cask and flagon. 
John has a range of custom wide, 

In the city's various sections ; 
And oft has to leave the horse outside. 

While "he's in, to make collections." 
And so it happened on Patrick's Day, 

John about on a trip departing. 
Stepped in with a friend who came his way, 

For a bumper of ale ere starting. 
The horse outside impatient grew ; 

He heard the drums a-drumming ; 
He heard the notes the bugles blew. 

And he knew the procession was coming. 
And the procession very soon, 

Its length was seen to drag on ; 
And moving in it were seen anon, 
John Kinsley's horse and wagon. 
At last, a Fourth street officer, 

Perceiving the situation, 
Took the gallant steed a prisoner. 

Away to the Fourth street Station. 
No place for the steed was there to see, 

(For the cells held many a sinner ;) 
So they took him to Hamilton's hostelry, 
Where he had his St. Patrick's dinner ! 



TALE OF A DUCK. 

(Oct. 31st, 1871.) 
In the street we call Delancey, in the City called New York, 
Lives a good and worthy citizen, who gains his bread by work, 
And he had a duck he valued more, than all the fowl on earth, 
And the duck was such a pet that it would waddle round the 
hearth. 
2 



26 HARVEST. 

Pleasant was it in the evening, when from business he came backy 
To see it flirt its wings for joy, and hear its "quack, quack, 

quack. " 
One eve howe'er he missed it ; he missed the welcome sound; 
In vain to find his darling duck, he looked and looked around. 
He searched all the front parlor ; he searched the basement baoky 
But saw no fluttering pinion, and heard no "quack, quack, 

quack," 
*' Ha ! " thought he, "now I have it, I now know where to look, 
That poultry dealer hereabout has my abducted duck. '' 
Just then came up IvicD-v-tt, of the North side. Eastern D., 
And he straight besought his cou:nsel in his " extremitie." 
Fired with a generous motive flashed the brave McD-v-tt's eye, 
"I'll bring you back that duck" he said, "I'Jl do it or I'll die.'' 
Change we the the scene. That afternoon at half-past four o'clock, 
At a chicken butcher's door there c.ime a most ungentle knock. 
The butcher oped the door, and of the stranger, quick glance took 
" Detective Sir, (my shield you see) I want to find a duck." 
Into the hall the stranger passed unbid ; for somewhere back. 
He thought he heard (or was 't the wind?) a kind of "quack, 

quack, qunck." 
He did not find the bird howe'er, in the x^lace whence came the 

sound. 
And hurrying upstairs quickly, he was looking round and round. 
Suddenly there was a racket, and a turmoil and a clamor. 
In rushed the poulterer, and wildly waved a ponderous hammer, 
In rushed the wife of the poulterer with iron tongs in hand! 
Where was the chance for any man against such odds to stand ? 
With one big leap McD v--tt cleared two flights of stairs and fled, 
And never stopped till he reached home, undressed and went to 

bed. 
Kext mom he had a fever, and his face grew blue and black. 
And when he raved as rave he did, he said "quack, quack, 

quack.'' 

THE YACHT BERTHA. 

Dedicated to the 0. Y. C. (September 14th, 1870.) 
A trim little yacht is the Bertha, a trim little yacht is she, 
Oft tempest-tossed and once nigh lost, she wrestles with the sea. 
Grand sight to see her captain— her captain and her crew ! 
A braver set were never yet, by waves wet through and through. 
With a dip and a dash to leeward, the Bertha springs away, 
Xdke an uncaged bird or a charger spurred, and over us breaks 
the spray ! 



HARVEST. 2t 

A braver crew or captain, uo yacht had ever to boast. 
They sailed away, all night and day, along New Jersey's Coast — 
Along New Jersey's Coast, my boys, whose looks do so forbid. 
It was their wish to capture fish, and capture fish they did ! 
But it was no fish whose rank is, sooth, but low in the fishy scale; 
Far better fate did them await— by Jove, they, hooked a whale ! 



THE WOOD MUSKETEERS. 

(Nov. 30th, 1870.) 
In long array we march to-day, brave men of various sizes. 
First comes the band, with music grand, and then come friends 

with prizes, 
Next, rank and file, (length half a mile) we tread with measured 

paces. 
And last, an Ethiopian comes, with target and grimaces. 
Gru* marching may not be the best e'er witnessed, but the fact is 
"We base our claim to merit but on skill in target practice ! 
All other armies to their foes, "much hurt and mischief" offer. 
But, when we valiant men, go forth, it is our friends who suffer, 
Put here your ware, we do not care, we'll take the smallest item , 
From fifty cents to fifty Vs. Be sure we'll never slight 'em. 
Bear on the bag that holds the swag, may prizes fresh enlarge it, 
Till we, at length, are all prepared, to perforate the target ! 
We're brave and good, we go for Wood, and bow to his direction ; 
These votes will tell extremly well, you bet, at next election. 

THE GREEN EANGERS. 

(Oct. 31st, 1860.) 
Glorious military airs (That band is Martin Mayer's.) 
Make the morning air to vibrate with the sound of fife and drum. 
And to window and to door, crowd the people to secure 
Each an excellent position to behold them w^hen they come . 

Behold whom '? 
The Green Hangers. How I wonder, sir, to hear you ask me 

whom. 
Here they are in motley clad, some lugubrious and sad — 
Some with coats that are like Joseph's, and with none at all, a few ; 
Men with waistcoats made of tin ; men with noses red with gin. 
Men vnth pants they might let lodgings in, hats each enough for 

two. 

Red, White and Blue, 
And every other color in their dresses meet our view^ 



28 HARVKST. 

" Clear a passage! clear a passage!" and at once descends a 

sausage, 
On the jaw of an encroacher on the shakj'^ line of march ; 
For a vigilant policeman is attendant upon these men, 
His face being raddled over and his collar stiff with starch, 

He's like a pine or larch. 
'Tis a caution, sir, I tell you, how he clears the line of march. 
Oh ! what prizes ! cabbage splendid as ever was intended 
For the palace of a queen, sir, or an Albert Ruland "spread,*' 
And an Ethiopian last, comes with target which is vast, 
And a strong predisposition of shirt collar to the head. 

All are led 
By gallant cr^ptain Dauber, who is marching at their head. 
Off to Elm Park, Staten Island, they are going, where on dryland 
They'll perforate the target fair with many a rifle ball, 
And they're "shots" by whom you'd swear — (for O'Connell's men 

are there), 
And they don't think twenty paces, sir, as any range at all. 

Luck befall 
The jubilant Green Rangers ; may " tirst prizes " come to all. 



THE SUPPER IN THESSALY. 
There was— 'tis Lucian who tells of it- 
Whilere, a supj)er in Thessaly 
Given by old ocean's deity. 
Many were those he invited there ; 
Eris, however — he slighted her, 
And when the joy and festivity 
Highest appeared in the banquet hall, 
Into it Gris clandestinely. 
Threw something golden and globular. 
That was the ball that killed harmony. 
Bo to this day we experience it. 
When is a party so powerful. 
When so attached and affectionate, 
Gold is unable to ruin it ? 



HARVEST. 29 



ON THE BURNING OF THE CITY HALL CUPOLA, NEW YORK. 

(August 17th, 1858.) 
Once more and Justice,! having long time borne 

The ins^lUs that to her were daily given — 
Fired at the last, throws down her scales in scorn, 

Wraps her in smoke and mounts the wind for heaven. 

ON ONE WHO WRITES WICKED EPIGRAMS AND THEN CONCEALS 
HIMSELF BEHIND A FILE OF ASTERISKS. 

He who speaks truth, has very often need 

To fortify himself with vizor-bars . 
Thoii shouldst have chosen "daggers ;" for, indeed, 

Who now can trust, for safety, to " the stars ?"t 

AN ASTRONOMICAL ARGUMENT. 
"Thy will be done on earth as 'tis in heaven," 

We by the Saviour have been taught to say, 
And shall we travel but six days in seven. 

When heavenly bodies travel every day ? 

AN OLD LADY BOASTS THAT SHE MOVES IN FASHIONABLE CIRCLES. 
Of that, my lady, there can be no doubt ; 
You've always done so— since the hoops came out. 

INSCRIPTION FOR AN INK-BOTTLE. 
Behold in me with stagnant fluid fraught, 
The Chaos dark of uncreated Thought. 



AN OLD RIDDLE ANSWERED. 
(Sept. 29, 1864.) 

"In the garden was laid 

A most beautiful maid 
As sotl as May-day morn ; 

She was a wife 

The first night of her life. 
And she died before she was born.'' 

* These Epigrams were contributed to several papers, including N. Y, Even- 
ing Post. &c., between the years 1853 and 1872. 
t A Statue on the Cupola, 
t Police, then so called. 



30 HARVKST. 

Deae Sik : 

That riddle is not verj new : 

I heard it years ago as well as you ; 

Nor had I then much trouble to perceive 

That the fair dame described therein was— Eve. 

A dam(n) was of all mortal men the first, 

So named because by him the rest got cursed. 

He was Eve's husband, made of clay alone ; 

But she herself was fashioned out of bone, 

(Which being the case it must one's mind perplex 

To guess why woman's called the softer sex. > 

They lived thiough their primeval shine and rain, 

And spent some years, 'tis said, in raising Oain, 

And Cain, we all know raised — . But I've no time 

To say more now. Besides I'm out of rhyme. 

Please have this printed. 'Tis to please a lady. 

Yours, with profound respect, O'Neel O'Gkadt. 



A RIDDLE, WHICH HAS NEVER BEEN ANSWERED, 
We are only lour and small, yet the elements all 

Own the power that we wield in some degree. 
Without us no breeze could blow, no rivulet could flow. 

Nor the wan moon shine down upon the sea. 
We are four. One doth dwell at the furthest end of hell ; 

One, a thousand long years will stand for ; 
One, every man doth own, though you'll find it with none 

And the last is the end of the war. 



THE DEVIL A "SINE QUA NON." 
Who made the Devil? Scripture doth not mention 
But, you'll admit, he was a bad invention. 
" Hist ! " says a grave divine, " don't prattle thus; 
Without him, there would be no need of us." 



THOUGHTS. 
Thoughts drift like Delos, on the sea of Time, 

Once seen and seized not, rarely seen again. 
Long, long has wandered many a thought sublime 

Before 'twas fixed and fastened with a pen. * 



■ Quam pius Arcitenens oras rt lilora circum 
Errnntem Mycono celsa Gyamque rtvinxit, 
Immotamque coli dedit et contemnere ventos. — -E. /// ; 75-77. 



HAKVKST. 31 

PERSEVERE. 
Thk rude lock said to the assaulting sea : 

"Thee from my height with scorn I contemplate." 
The wild sea only murmured, ' ' That may be, 

But may not be forever : I can wait." 



PR^VALEBIT. 
Truth conquers. Let men howl. They howled when he, 

Who died for all, his last, sad journey trod, 
Faltering and fainting, on to Calvary. 

To-day, the man they crucified is God. 

THE REASON. 
Aftee a battle, on the bloody plain 

Where dead and wounded lie in many a heap, 
'Tis marked, there always falls a shower of rain, 
And 'tis no wonder ; do not angels weep ? 



ON A PEDANTIC PEDAGOGUE. 
Ah Tityrus, what is the matter now ? 

Last week engaged and vacuus to day! 
Why sits such sadness on thy classic brow ? 

Have Probus' boys all gone to College, pray ? 
Nay, gone they're not. I left them all last week ; 

For, one morn, thinking so to please him well, 
I said, " Good morrow " to their sire in Greek, 

And he replied, in English — " go do well." 



COINCIDENCES. 
When Susan breaks the China, 'twas the cat 
That knocked down this, in jumping up to that. 
When Dick reels home after the hour allotted. 
His last dime spent ; of course he has been garrotted. 

THE FLIGHT OF TIME. 
(Incident of a Political Meeting.) 
While listening to the language glowing. 

Within the Hall of Washington, 
He looked to see if his watch was going, 

And was pained to find that his watch was gone. 



HARVEST. 

TEMPORA MUTANTUR ET NOS MUTAMUR. 
In the sweet, summer months when the air's pleasant verjj 
Me unterrified min call me pleasintly, "Terry;" 
But whin winther comes on, an' there isn't much diggin', 
They show more respeck and say "Misther McGwiggen." 



THE FOG. 
(Dec. 10, 1869.) 
A quarter after iive a. m. , to-day, 

I rose to get my usual egg-nogg, 
And found I could not see across the way, 

All things were so enveloped in a fog. 
And it grew thicker with the morn's advance. 

At nine o'clock two Yankees with long heads, 
Went into speculation on the chance. 

And used it up for stuffing feather beds. 

TROUBLE IN HEAVEN— EVENING OF JANUARY 30th, 1869. 
As we were looking West by North, * 

With thoughts on nothing bent, last even, 
The Queen of Beauty issued forth, 

As from a little door in heaven. 
She seemed in myriad diamonds clad. 

Much brighter than on earth are now sold, 
And walking at her side, she had 

A member of the heavenly household. 
Who might he be ? He looked serene. 

And twinkling smiles he shed in plenty. 
Oh favored thus, to Beauty's Queen, 

To act the cavalier servente. 
On, side by side, they paced the blue, 

And both we kept our raptured eyes on, 
Till Venus blushed, and lo ! the two 

Dropped down behind the dark horizon. 
Again we looked o'er heaven's broad brow, 

And lo, things there foretold disaster ! 
Juno was kicking up a row 

Because — she missed her "lord and master." 

*NoTE. — The Author is doubtful as to the exact point in the heavens where the 
stars became visible in their apposition. His uncertainty arises from the want 
of a pocket-compass and the peculiar situation of the 'Burgh. Every one knows , 
who has searched titles to property in the 'Burgh, that the variations of the 
needle have been more frequent here than anywhere else in the United States. 



HARVEST. 

PALMAM QUI MERUIT FERAT. 

" A prize for meanness !" with malicious mirth, 
Cried Jove Imperial looking down on earth. 
The words were heard in Chatham street, New York, 
And Hans Von Skiuem dropped his knife and fork ; 
Old Balls, too, heard it, and off straight he went, 
And missed a chance of 25 per cent ; 
The junkman hears the prize announced, nor lags. 
Though an old woman just comes in with rags. 
All, from all quarters, one vast concourse, move, 
And lay their claims before Imperial Jove. 
Just are the God's decrees. At last, he cries— 
"Yon Ferry Company obtains the prize." 

VALE! 
(July 22, 1669.) 
Friend Bovers says -"Farewell ! " May breezes bland, 
Safe waft him Eastward to the Fatherland. 
Safe may he go, and safe to us return. 
And his tobacco never cease to burn. 



AN OWER TRUE TALE. 

" Take down no notes,'' the lecturer said 

In accents sweet but somewhat nervous ; 
"For when my lecture I'll have read. 

The manuscript is at your service. " 
The "local" thanked the lecturer, 

Sat out the lecture, not a long one— 
Eeceived a scroll, went home and there 

Found out, 0, Saxe, it was the wiong one. 

THE PARISIAN LOYER AND HIS PIGEON. 
(Nov. 12, 1870.) 

PARISIAN LOVER. 

! carrier pigeon ! may thy flight be high. 
That bearest to my love this billet dovx : 

And when you sight the Prussians, "mind your eye, 
For they have hawks on the look out for you. 

PIGEON. 

I'll try it, master, perilous though it be, 
I'll seek thy lady instantly. K she 
Shall not devour thy letter, every word. 
Then may the cruel hawk devour thv bird. 



34 HARVi:ST. 

THE POOR MAN'S HARVEST. 

Hungry, despondent, througli our streets at even, 

Shovel in band, liis way a poor man trod. 
That night it snowed. Next morn he looked towards Heaven, 

And thank :d the silent charity of God. 

ON VIEWING T. R. GOULD'S STATUE OF THE "WEST WIND," NOW 
THE PROPERTY OF Hon. DEMAS BARNES. 

Fihe, Earth, and Water, deified in stone, 

Make famed, creative x\rt, by forms they bear, 

Art's latest triumph is at last made known : 
Our Gou'd has can:Tht and petrified the Air. 

PETITIO PASSERIS. 
(Dec. 9, 1871.) 
Theke is anger in the air — 
Little shelter anywhere,— 
Not a leaf by bramble borne. 
Blade of grass or stalk of corn. 
Naught but snow where'er we go — 
Snow above us, round us buow. 
Therefore, hearken, we implore; 
Clear a f^pace before your door, 
In which scatter a few crumbs, 
For the sparrow when he comes, 
And His blessing on you all, 
Who regards a sparrow's fall. 

LINES. 
[To Charles W. Douglas. Esq., on returni7Lg a gold penril borrowed of him at 
the dinner to L. G. Tillotson, Esij.. at the St. Nicholas Hotel. February 15, 1872.J 
Eailroad, Telegraph and Press — 
Praise them much, but praise them less 
Than the little, light utensil, 
Which we mortals call a pencil. 
All upon it are dependent. 
Editor and Superintendent. 
Vain what Telegraph brings nearer, 
If this means don't make it clearer. 
Great the Eailroad, great the Press ; 
Great the Telegraph, "I guess," 
Greater still this frail utensil ; 
Douglass, thank you ; here's your pencil 



HARVEST. 35 

ON A BROTHER AND SISTER VERY BEAUTIFUL, BUT THAT EACH 
WAS BLIXD OF AN EYE. 
From the Latin of Hierouymus Amaltheus. 
AcoN, of right eye bereft ; 
Leonilla, of her left, 
Either, for form, would still have odds, 
In a contest with the gods. 
Boy, that eye which still is thine 
To thy sister but resign, 
Thou blind Cupid thus wilt be. 
And the Queen of Beauty she. 



CHRISTOPHER CRUET AND HIS PIPE. 
Dedicated to Ludwig Semler, Esq. 

Being me my pipe of ocean-spray, 
I would cast my cares away. 
Call here, call here, some friend if he 
Will but smoke a pipe with me — 
Soma friend with an unfailing store 
Of rich, anecdotic lore. 
Lo ! the fume, through amber tip, 
Owns the mastery of my lip. 
Ever changing, pist miue eyes, 
Eings and spires and curves arise — 
Poised but for a moment there — 
Float away and turn to air. 
They are Mercy's veil unfurled 
'Twixt my ^'ision and the world. 
Ah, when the days' toils are o'er 
And we've latched our humble door, 
What more calm, more sweet delight 
Than the quiet pipe at night ? 
Fill me my pipe of ocean-spray : 
I would cast my cai-ea away. 



86 IIxVRYEST. 



SONG . 

Written for, and sung by, Dr. H. P. Hardcastle, on the taking up of the old 

Liberty Pole, corner of Fourth and South-Second streets, Dec. 13th, 1864. 

Air. — Auld Lang Syne. 

While gazing on this liallowed spot, we scarce repress the tears ;. 

One landmark more has passed away— the pole we've known for 

years. 
How oft we've eyed that shaft with pride, in iiappy times gone 

by, 

While, at its top, our Hag streamed out between us and the sky. 

'Tis more than a mere log to us, who honor in a cup, 

The memories fond, that it recalls, and theirs who put it up. 

Of those who gaily ministered upon that festive day. 

Some now are cold, and some are old, and some are far away. 

So fiU, fill up ; fill thrice, the cup ; we'll drink three times to- 
night ; 

One cup to those, on whose repose, now breaks no morning light ; 

One cup to those who still live on, old, hale, and hearty men, 

And one to those whom, udw remote, we hope to meet again. 

May ' 'Zephyrs" ever blandly play about each hallowed tomb, 

And, in the Spring time, kindle there, the wild flowers into bloom. 

May "Zephyrs," to the old man's cheek, bring life-prolonging 
health, 

And "Zephyrs" waft the wanderers back with glory and with 
wealth. 



SONG. 
Written for, and sung by the same, on the same occasion. 
Air. — Ben Bolt. 
Don't you remember that jolly old pole 

Which lies all so prostrate to-day ? 
How it braved the rude tempests and mocked their control 

'Till vanquished at last by decay ! 
In the board-fenced lot, on the corner it lies, 

Where some stout men have just dug a hole, 
For some one had said, in a casket of lead, 

A treasure lay under the pole. 
Friend Hiram has purchased the pole for an X, 

And, for firing, 'twas cheap at the cost ; 
But, along with the stick was the treasure annexed, 

That was placed there by honest Jack Frost, 



hartp:st. 3t 

The friends of the pole in its palmier days, 
Messrs. Burroughs and Abbott stand nigh, 

And a stray "Zaphyr" too, that still fondly delays 
And "blows" fresh as in moments gone by. 

A DITTY OF GREENPOINT. 

Written by Sagittarius, and sung with thrilling effect by Mr. Peeler. 

(Dec. 1, 1868.) 

Air. — "The Last Rose of Summer. "' 

'Tis drill-day to-morrow ; 

We've searched all around, 
But search where we will. 

Not a goat's to be found. 
Where, where can we pounce on 

Some Nanny or £111, 
To afford us a scape -goat 

And save us ftrom drill ? 



CONEY ISLAND. 

(Aug. 29, 1864.) 

Some like the deep, obscure ravine ; 

Some love the sunny highland : 
For me, earth holds no second scene 

Like thine, sweet Coney Island. 
Oh, let me live one moment there, 

Away from streets so torrid, 
And feel the cool and mellow air 

Upon my cheek and forehead ; 
And I will feel of real joy, 

I' sooth, a fuller measure 
Than father in his first-born boy 

Or miser in his treasure. 
Oh that I had a pair of wings, 

To soar o'er sea and highland. 
How soon I'd leave dull, business things, 

And fly to — Coney Island. 

SONG. 
(Sept. 1, 1870.) 
As the night draweth nigh, 
What a sight we behold. 
Where the trees and the sky 
Mingle crimson and gold — 



38 UARYEST. 

The crimson of leaves, 

Like the glow of the lip, 
And the gold of the sky. 

Like the wine that we sip. 
The wine, to the fair 

And the brave, let us pour, 
While our lips breathe a praj'er 

For their weal ever laore. 

TOAST. 
To-night we drink a double health, but one to our Ca^otain 

first, 
A.S we quaff of the vine whose roots the Rhine with kindly 

moisture nurst, 
The second we drink to the Fatherland ; for no nobler fluid 

runs 
Than the juice that's pressed from her hill-side vines or the 

blood in the hearts of her sons. 

FROM THE GERMAN. 

Dedicated to Capt. M. J. Petry.— (Sept. 29, 1870.) 
Welcome is our darling sister, 

From the far off Fatherland ; 
Who can tell how much we've missed her 

Since she waved her parting hand ? 
But did our affection falter. 

For the leagues of air and spray ? 
It, what chance or change can alter ? 

It, what years can wear away ? 
Sister, to your hands I render 

(Proud I've been the trust to bear), 
All these little charges tender 

You confided to my care. 
]S[e'er again can'st thou, dear sister. 

Go from home and loved ones forth. 
Singers, sing the song — ' ' In meinem 

Ilerzen ist der schoensie ort." 



HARVEST. 39 

fUiXMrtcr mil §mimmUx. 

"Im Hexam'Her steigt des Rpringquells flues^iige Saeiile 

Im Pentameter draaf fao'.lt sie nielodisch herab." Schiller. 

RURAL. 
(Junes, 1664.) 
Couched on the rank, green grass, in the shade of the river-side 
alders, 
Or, where, in verdant cascades, willows fall blandij- around — 
Far from the red, brick fronts and the populous streets of the 
city- 
Far from its crimes and its woes ; far from its dust and its din, 
Sweet to be lulled into rest by the sound of the querelous waters! 
Ah ! but brief time for repose. Duty commands and I go. 

BY THE SEA-SIDE. 

Soft sleeps the morn's gold light on the long, smooth hoave of 
the ocean. 

Far to the right and the left, 'ueath the cloud-wrought curtains 
of heaven, 

Shi^Ds, little specks in the distance, are slowly and silently mov- 
ing. 

This i? the beach. O'er our heart comes a strange irrei3r;ssiblo 
sadness. 

Tumbles the wave on the sand v/ith a sound as of far distant 
thunder ; • 
Then rushes up to our feet — stops and falls back with a sigh. 

We are on board. Now the anchor is raised, and our yacht in an 
instant, 

Quick as a steed to the spur, i:)Iunges forward into the billows. 

Cleaving the waters we rush with a hiss and a splash to the lee- 
ward. 
Anm veni ! This is life ! Mine be a life on the sea ! 

IN THE WOODS. 

All things in in Nature abroad, whether mighty or small, have a 
meaning. 

Sages affect to discern in the fall and renewal of blossoms, 

Man's resurrection assured, but the leaves that lie dark and dis- 
colored, 

Thousands on thousands, dispersed through the sunless and echo- 
less forest — 

What is the moral they point ?— I am sad, at the thought. To 
my vision, 



40 HARYKST. 

Thousands on thousands of leaves thT,t once green in the glory 

of summer. 
Trembled for joy in the sunshine and sighed to the amorous 

breezes, 
Are but as dead generations of men. The assurance 
Given by the sages is wanting. Here, here are the air and the 

sunshine ; 
Do not despise them to-day, for the leaves will lie scattered to. 

morrow. 



• ROCKAWAY BEACH. 
SoMBKE immensity — undulous distance — silent horizon — 
Slow-moving motes in the of&ng — wave-breaking, thundering 
fore-ground. 



A BIT OF LANDSCAPE. 

Whimpeks the stream, on its way ; from the deep grass sings the 
cicada. 

Fanned into song by the breeze blowing fresh from the full-blos- 
somed orchard. 

Hark, from the sycamores dense come the wild bees' musical 
murmurs, 

Soothing the ear of the toiler whom noon has released, into 
slumber. 

Forth from a shrubbery of alders, its low walls blushing with 
roses. 

Coyly a cottage peeps out, at whose door-sill are little ones play- 

iiig ; 
Far out over the shrubbery and over the cottage are uplands — 
Over the uplands are seen, azure and silent, the hills. 



SAMPLE OF A NEW TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL. 
{M. I. : 34-45.) 
ScABCE vv'ore they well out of view of Sicilia, into the ocean, 
Going with all sail set and with brass beaks cleaving the billows 
When Juno, nursing the sense of a deep-woun led pride in her 

bosom. 
Thus with herself : — " And am I to delist from my purpose, 
Powerless from shores of Italia, to keep back the King of the 

Teucri ? 
For that, forsooth, I'm forbid by the fates ? And yet could not 

Athene 



HARVEST. 41 

Burn up the ships of the Greeks, and themselves overwhelm in 

the ocean, 
All for one crazed man's fault, that of Ajax, the son of Oileus. 
She, even she, from the clouds Jove's own swift thi^nderbolts 

hurling, 
Scattered their ships all abroad, and with rude winds stii'red up 

the waters. 
Ajax himself breathing flames where the thunderbolt went through 

his bosom. 
Catching on high in a wirlwind, she dashed on a rock and imi aled 

him." 



PEACE. 

Rumbles the thunder afar, growing louder, and louder, and 
louder, 
Pauses. At once with a crash, down come the torrents of rain. 
Over the sea and the land, joint reign hold Darkness and Horror. 

Yet let us be not afraid: wild as the waves be, to-night. 
He who protects us to-night, is Lord o'er the winds and the 
tempests ; 
He, when men trembled for fear, said to the waters "Be stilV 



WRITTEN ON THE SITE OF THROOP AVENUE CHURCH. 
(May 27th, 1867.) 

Quiet serene, what a rapture, though but for an instant, to know 

thee ! 
Faint, very faint— we could wish that it only were farther and 

fainter — 
Sounds, at this distance, the hum of the busy and populous city. 
Twitter of bird in the brambles or meek kine cropping the 

herbage, 
These would we hear, and these only, while light airs chasing 

each other, 
Rise on inArisible wings, and throughout the long afternoon,. 

tireless, 
Come to us burdened with perfume from thickets cf flowery lilacs. 



42 HARVEST. 



LA DIYINA COMEDIA NUOVA. 

A Voice from the Spirit Land. 

" Mine Uncle Toby" on the Sanitary Fair.— February, 1864. 

In a dream last night, methought, down to Hades, 1 was brought, 

And I knew, at once, and recognized Mine Uncle Toby there. 
"Friend, well met! What news,'' he said, "from above?"— I 
answer made. 
"An it jjlease you, sir, we're getting up in Bkookltn and else- 
where, 

A Fair, 
To aid our poor, sick soldiers who so need our tender care." 
** Right !" quoth he, " they'll inarch no "more" — (Here I grieve to 
say he swore, 
But his eyes with goodness glistened bright and brighter as he 
spoke, ) 
" Yet good Sir," I said "there's fear, since the righteous interfere, 
That, tho' blest in its inception 'twill eventuate in smoke ; 

Pious folk 
Have such curious ways of doing good — Oh dear ! 
There's poor Geuel, with the dread of ''the next draff in his 
head, 
Says that lotteries are sinful and denounced in Writ Divine, 
And meek Cfeds, who lives on whey or " tay" six times a day, 
Signs a protest, be it noticed, against introducing wine. 

With a whine — 
(Oh ignorance unchristian ! ) that no Christian should drink wine." 

Anger lightened in his face. "Oh so callous to disgrace. 

So minutely conscientious, while poor soldiers sink and die ! 
Much they know of Holy Writ ! Little deem they that in it. 
Are high sanction and example for the things they would 
decry ; 

You and I, 
Can for " casting lots" show sanction that is holy as 'tis high." 
" Ah," said I, ''the Fox and Crane are about to feast again, 
I am sure I'm at a loss to know what the Committee means. 

In studying their own tastes, not the palates of their guests, 
Making Teutons drink cold water, and poor Jews eat pork and 
beans, 

Give us greens, 
Bacon, beef, veal, mutton, anything in fact but pork and beans," 



hARVKST. 43 

'What!" be answered, "are they mad? Things uuscriptural 
and bad ! 
Banned by Moses and Pythagoeas, each Misest in his day ! 
I tried them long ago, and the consequence, I know, 

Was an eartliquake in the stomach. If so be it, stay aw;iy, 

I say, 
If you do not like the muUy-gnibs, you'd better stay away!" 
*'But, good sir," I said, "how then, help our poor, sick wounded 
men?" 
Straight, he answered, "By a Fair upon the fair and libriral 
plan. 
Now's the time ; at once prepare, let us have the Lui/iiie)i's FOr, 
Summon forthwith every generous, every liberal-minded m in, 

To the van, 
And UxcLE Toby's word for it, they'll answer, to a man!" 
More had I besought of him, but the vision all grew dim 

Rose the curtain of my dream then on another scene as odd : 
*' Doll, doll doU^^ broke on my ear, and there stood an auction. ;er, 
As he peered about serenely, yet so keenly for a nod 

In a stylish house ol Gcd. 
He was selling pews like mercJiandise and looking for a nod. 
Hose the curtain up once more. Far-ofif hills rose high and lioar; 
To the right the Ocean heaved, and in the foreground glowed 
the sod, 
And the airs that fanned my cheek and my forehead, seemed to 
speak : 
" Enter, Man, the only Temple that is worthy of thy God ! 

Come abroad !"-- 
Leave dim cloisters that discolor and distort the rays from God ! 

Ox\ THE MARCH. 

(February, 21st, 1858.) 
Hakk to the cymbals! hark to the trumpet! hark to the drum's 

loud beat. 
The jingling light of sabre gear and the tramp of horses' feet ! 
The troops are on their march at last, and viewing the pageant 

rare, 
The village children shout for joy, and whirl their caps in air. 
But one there is, at a cottage door, who has, in their joy, no 

part ; 
Por she looks on the passing pageant with a sorrow-laden heirt. 
The fading sounds that glad tkelr hearts, to her's like a death- 

I ell's come^ 



44 HARVEST. 

The clash and clang of the cymbals and the swell of trump and 

drum. 
Merrily flaunts in air the plume of yonder 3'oung hussar 
Who sends her Parthian kisses as his charger fleets afar. 
He dashes on, and soon is gone ; but still, with fond delay, 
She lingers, till the latest sound of the hoofs, has died away. 
Still she lingers and she listens ; but no more from distance come. 
The clash and the clang of the cymbals, and the swell of trump 

and dram. 
And she hears but the quiet tinkle of the brook across the lea, 
Stealing, underneath the cresses, on its journey to the sea. 

On the wood, the brook, the cottage, quickly fall the shades of 

night, 
While the distant spire and the upland lawns wear sunsef s 

pensive light. 
Wends the toiler ever singing, slowly onward where he sees 
The smoke of the village chimnies going up from among the 

trees. 
Naught stirs abroad now, save that dreamily across the sky, 
With feebly-waving, weary wings, the rooks to covert fly. 

'Tis a festive scene— bright lamps and brighter eyes light up 

the hall, 
And joyous is the music there to which the foot-steps fall. 
but they tread it merrily ! What! Mark you you hussar, 
The dame he leads outshining each, as the full moon doth a star? 
It seems to me, or I misjudge, I've seen his face before. 
As he talked with a little poasant girl outside a cottage door. 
A haughty dame, a laughing dame is she he moves with now ; 
Ah, weak the tenure of the heart that holds him by his vow. 
'Tis the scene of a recent battle, and the full moon, round and 

red. 
Comes up, in solemn silence, shining dimly on the dead. 
Mute are the drum and trumpet. Lamps are flitting in the plain, 
In hands of those gone forth to seek their friends among the 

slain. 
Cold, by his steed, a soldier sleeps, the death-dew on his brow — 
What ! can it be ? Yes, yes, the same ! And where's his partner 

now? 
Ah, ill so soft a dame might brave the chilly evening air, 
Yet, soft as she, a peasant girl is weeping wildlj^ there. 

'Tis a summer's eve. — A whimpering brook, coming out from 

a dark wood, flows 
Eeverently, by a village church where the village dead repose. 



HARVEST. 45 

All in that solemn scene is still, but that brook so quietly 
Stealing, underneath the cresses, on its journey to the sea. 
Long ago, of that village spire, we had a distant view. 
"Where is the little peasant girl we that time looked on too ? 
Seest thou lilies on this new-made grave but recently let fall ? 
Beneath them slumbers one who was the lily of them all. 



THE CLASSICAL VIEW OF WOMAN. 

(December 9th, 1668.) 

Which are we to accept with unquestioning faith — the state- 
ments of generally credited historians, or the mere dogmatic as- 
sertions of our local divines ? Only recently one reverend gentle- 
man undertook to inform us, despite the recorded and, as yet 
uncontradicted testimony of even pagan historians, that Christ 
was not handsome. Still more recently another gentleman aston- 
ished us with the information that, in classical antiquity, no chaste 
and lasting alfection was recognized between man and wife. 

So far am I from agreeing with the reverend gentleman in this 
assumption, that I will venture to assert that chastity, in tho.^e 
days was held in higher honor than it is in many Christian coun- 
tries to-day. How will he reconcile with his dogma, the fact tha^ 
the very names chastity and virtue are of Eoman origin ? The 
word virtue, we know, only acquired its present signification in 
later times. We kno*w, however, how it came to acquire that 
signification ; valor being regarded as the virtue of man, as 
chastity and fidelity were regarded as the virtue of woman. 

Was it not in ancient Rome that the sanctity of the hearth was 
first personified in the goddess Vesta, chastity under penalty of 
death being the condition of those maidens who tended her altar? 
What combination of ideas is that which is conjured up by the 
words Eoman matron ? We know and knowing it, can feel how 
great the praise conveyed in the words of Cicero, "Fcemina ma- 
tronarum castissima." 

If Christianity alone has fostered the domestic virtues how is 
it that a Christian poet (Gray) drew from the following lines of 
the "irreligious" Lucretius, the materials for one of bis sweetest 
stanzas : — 

2s'on (lomus accipiet te Ifeta neque uxor 
Optima, nee dulces, occurrent oscula nati 
Proeripere et tacita pectus dulcedine tangent. 

(N"o joyous home shall receive thee, thee shall no admirable 
wife receive ; nor shall darling children vie with each other in 
snatching kisses and touching thy heart with joy unspoken.) 



46 HARVEST. 

Even from the profligate Catullus, we could adduce proof, that 
virtuous married life was admired and revered among the Romans. 
Virgil says : — 

"Casta puflicitiam servat domus." 

But could the domestic affections have been feeble among 
people to whom, in the day of battle, their leader appealed most 
powerfully by reminding them that they fought pro aris ei focls ; 
well translated by a Christian poet (Halleck) in the line — 
"Strike for your altars and your fires." 

If indeed chastity was in such low esteem at Room, except in 
the degenerate days of Juvenal, how came the story of Lucretia 
to be recorded? What was the speech of the centurion Virginius, 
as given by Livy, when he chose rather to see his daughter dead 
than dishonored ? Why is Cornelia, the daughter of Cinna and 
the beloved wife of Caesar, remembered for her virtues ? Wherej 
in our boasted modern days, will the reverend gentlemrsn parallel 
tiie constancy and affection of Arria? 

But let a Roman (Flautus) bear witness as to the regard in 
which honest Romans of old, held virtuous woman : 

" Nan ego illam mihi dotem esse puto, qua dos dicitur 
Sed pudicitiam et pudorem et sedatam cupidinem. 

If female virtue was in low esteem at Athens, how is it that the 
intellectual and accomplished hefaira was not admitted to the 
society of the unaccomplished matron ? A^-liy, but because much 
as learning and genius were esteemed, virtue was esteemed S-tilj 
more highly? Lais and Aspasia were worshipped in their pecu- 
liar sphere, but found no welcome in the homes of Athens. 

These instances, however, are taken from a period of classical 
antiquity comparatively recent. It is to the highest classical an- 
tiquity I am forced to recur for the grandest argument against 
the reverend gentleman's assumption, respectfully challenging 
him to point out, in the whole circle of Christian literature, a 
nobler exposition of what a truly loving and virtuous wife should 
be, than that which is to be found recorded in the Iliad. With 
the touchingly beautiful episode of Hector and Andromache as 
evidence before him to the contrary, will the gentleman persist in 
maintaining that in classical antiquity, no chaste and lasting af- 
fection was recognized between man and wife ? 

Christianity no doubt, has done more than any other creed to 
make woman universally respected, but, unquestionably, the pe- 
culiar respect in which woman is held in Christian countries at 
the present day, had its origin m the religious sentiment intensi- 
fied to adoration, with which the Virgin Mary was regarded in 



HARVEST. 4T 

early Christian times no less than now ; just as the low esteem in 
which woman is still held in non-Christian countries, is reason- 
ably connected with traditions of the Fall. "I suppose'' said 
Abd El Kader, while a prisoner in France, observing the respect 
everywhere shown to women— "it is owing to the Virgin Mary." 
And the noble savage was not far from the truth. A Christian 
poet makes the same recognition in other words : 
"Ci*eed of my fathers, it was thine to raise, 
Her whom all creeds had studied to debase." 

In "classical antiquity,'' however, every virtuous worn m was 
admired and resiDected, despite the old, injurious tradition, and 
without reference to any other consideration than her individual 
worth. 

The gentleman's allusion to the Hindoo suUee hardly sustains 
his argument. Happily the custom is now obsolete. At no time, 
however, are we aware that the act of self-immolation was other 
than a voluntary self-devotion of the wife, and in view of the fact 
that in India generally the man and wife have been playmates 
while children, we must regard the act as evidence for rather 
than against the enduring nature of the attachment which there 
subsists between husband and wife. 

CARMEN AMERICANUM 
Latine Rtihtitum. 

Pakce, parce illi, precor, arborator, 
Quercui ; quemquam neque tange frondem ! 
Tuta sit Quercus, milii parvulo quns 

Prgebuit umbram. 
Arborem, primum manibus piis quam, 
Prte domi parvse foribus locavit. 
Hie mei patris pater ipse, ne tu 

Tange securi ! 
Heu ! puer grata nimis otiosus, 
Saepe ramorum jacui sub umbra ; 
8£epe sub ramis hilares mere lu- 

sere sorores. 
Basia hie mater dedit, hie prehensum, 
Cariter dextra tenuit pater me. 
Flere mi fanti hasc liceat, sed oro, 

Siste securim ! 
Carius toto nihil est in orbe , 
Te mihi, Quercus. Tibi flexuosre, 
Gaudeant, Quercus, volucrum perenni, 

Carmine frondes. 



48 HARVEST. 

O procellosos maneas per annos, 
Robor invictum ! Procul liinc securis ! 
Te, mihi dexfcra remanente, nemo 

Destrnat, Arbor ! 



LA PIPE D'OB AND OTHEE POEMS. 

By Christopher Cruet, Esq., 12 mo., pp. 100. New York : Nemo & Outis, suc- 
cessors to Donowho & Co. 

(Mock Criticism. Jan. 28, 1864.) 

Our old friend, Mr. Cruet, will accept our hearty acknowledg- 
ments for the very handsome copy with which he has presented 
us, of the work whose title forms the caption of this paper. Nor 
has it escaped us that he has not forgotten to enhance its value by 
affixing his sign manual to the fly-leaf. We trust that we do not 
transgress the limits of our privilege in speaking thus publicly 
of a work which, in a sense, has not yet been published ; only a 
limited number of copies having been thrown off in addition to 
those intended for the particular friends of the author. 

Mr. Cruet, if not a poet, in the rigid acce])tation of the word, 
writes, at all events, with facility and felicity, and knowing the 
native energy of our Anglo Sason syllables, knows how to use 
them with point and purpose. Apropos of Saxon force, he well 
says (Page 25) : 

"No words like Saxon in the whole world's width ! 

Who would wield Thought as wields his sledge the Smith, 

Must have the Saxon tongue to do it with." 

The character of this little volume is dissimilar from that of 
most of the poetical collections of the day. Instead of the 
inevitable '■'■ Stanzas for Music,''* '^ Lines on a Tear ," '' An Angel's 
Smile," &c., &c., which usually form the staple of such works, 
the reader will be startled to find "Lines to my Pipe," ''A 
Eulogy on Killikimck," ''Epigram on a Cigar butt," &c., &c. 
Indeed, what is remarkable, almost every one of the effusions in 
the volume involves an allusion to pipes and tobacco. 

Mr. duet's most ambitious effort, however, is a ballad entitled 
La Pipe D' Or. The period to which we would ascribe the inci- 
dents related in this unique little poem, may be fixed as some- 
what later than the times of the glorious Sir Walter Raleigh. 
Mr. Cruet, however, very properly refuses to recognize in poetic 
fiction the necessity for strict geographical and chronological 
accuracy. He holds light the theory of the unities of time, place 
and action. He is right ! Snares they are for the feet of callow 
bards and feeble witlings only. True genius owns itself the slave 



HARVEST. 49 

of no cricumstances or conditions. It takes the world to pieces 
and re-disposes and re-combiues the dehris at will. Canute says 
to the sea — " KoU back ! " But the sea " don't see it. ■' Shakspeare 
does not ask its leave, but takes it )iolens volens every mile of the 
way to Bohemia. Mahomet called the mountain to him ; but it 
was "no go." Not so Orpheus; not so Shakspeare. The one 
moved the rocks and trees and stayed the rivers ; and the latter 
made Birnam Wood come to Dunsinane. 

In La Pipe L'or the curtain rises as it were on a scene near 
Schatfhausen. The poet in undertaking to paint for us in words 
the Khine, is suddenly caught in a current of poetic feeling 
which hurries him on thus : 

** Oh for the silent mountain tops that, white against the sky, 
Look doAvn where through the purple gloom, the Ehine goes 
jQashing by!" 
Then the springs of that nature -worship which is in him, are 
unlocked, for, spurning the offices of paid mediators between 
man and his God, he says - 

" I find my homilies 
Writ on the foreheads of the hills and out upon the seas." 
And in a foot-note, he adds : 

Oh when His wondrous power abroad 
Throughout the universe expands. 
Shall we kneel down to worship God, 
In narrow temples built by hands ? 
Nay! — 'Neath the broad cerulean dome. 

The hills my altar and the sea 
To peal thy praises, I will come 

Great Undefineh, to worship Thee!" 
Though, we own, we do not exactly comprehend what it is 
which, in this connection, he means by — 

"There, as thou kneelest on the sod. 

No venal, pious egotist 
Takes tithes of praises due to God. " 
The action of the poem commences where Blanche, daughter of 
Count Ruj)ert, is in grief on account of the contemptuous man- 
ner in which her father has been speaking of her lover Rudolph, 
of Schalf hausen, to whose suit, on account of disparity of birth 
and fortune, the Count is adverse. His family pride, however, 
nearly succumbs to his affection. He mildly reproves her : 
"Blanche, never cease to feel that thou art proud Count Rupert's 

child. 
And thou canst not err." 

While giving this advice, he is intenupted by Rudolph, who 
has overheard him : 

* ' In strode young Rudolph on the word : ' Count Rupert, here I 
stand, 



50 EAR VEST. 

Thy proper peer, sans fault or fear, to ask thy daughter's hand, ' 
The flush of h-e, the scowl of scorn Count Eupert's features took, 
But not one inch did Eudolph flinch, but gave him look for look. 
' Wei], by the bones of Charlemagne and all the charms therein, 
I do admire thy daring, boy, despite thy beardless chin : 
Proud knights have tried in vain (ha, ha !) and thou hast hope to 
win! 

Name, prithee, the broad lands to which thy father left thee 

lord!' 
Forth stood you ig Rudolph proudly, and unsheathed his shining 

sword. 
Then laid it full before the Count upon the oaken board — 
(No tuble-cloths or napkins then, in wash accounts were scored). 
' I'd l)ear from thee as Blanche's sire what from none else I'd 

bear, 
Thou askest me to what heritage my father left me heir. ' 
(He laid his hmd upon tie sword) 'My har'.tage is there !' 

The old man heard ; and from his brow the scowl at once gave 

way, 
As leaden clouds from a mountain peak roll off before the day. 
'Eight nobly done! right nobly said! Thy hand — thy hand, I 

say ! 
I, too, have been a soldier. All I own, my sword hath won ; 
The well earned meeds of daring deeds tliat in my youth I've 

done. 
These lands, this hall — I give thee all ; I give -my daughter, too! 
Here, take a pipe. Dost smoke my boy ?' The youth replied, 

'I do.' 
'That's right!' said old Count Bui^ert, as he filled a pipe, 

'thafs right ! ' 
And bowing, passed it to the youth, then handed him a light 
' My whole heart to the man v.'ho loves tobacco and the sex ! 
But one c on d it on, I unto thy title will annex : 
In lieu of .suit and service thou shalt only bring me here 
(I think thou canst not say that the condition is severe) 
Q'welve pounds of the best 'niggerhead' and twelve clay pipes a 

year ! ' 

Mr. Cruet fails to tell for the benefit of historical inquirers 
what particular kind of a pipe it was that Count Rupert handed 
to l\udolph. "Niggerhead" we believe is the name by which a 
certain kind of tobacco, is, or was once, familiarly known. We do 
not know what to say in apology for the precedence of mention 
which "tobacco'" is made to take of "the sex," except by attribu- 
ting it to the exigencies of rhyme and metre. 

Of course Rudolph and Blanche are married at last. The epi- 
thalamic incidents are graphically touched off. After describing 
them, Mr. Cruet adds in the "homely phrase' of "the people" 
which never comes amiss in a ballad— 
"And that wedding to this day, hath been the theme of many a 

rhyme ; 
For in the people's homely phrase, they had a "high old time." 



HARVEST. 51 

But time changes the happy scene. One by one the various 
actors disappear. Even the inanimate oLjects, once familiar 
features ef the landscape, in time elude recognition : — 

"Now all are fled ; nor stone of that old mansion standeth one ; 
But peasants still (as peasants will) talk o'er the day that's gone ; 
Still love to tell where old Count Eupert sate o' summer eves, 
When the birds were mute and the air was heard at whispers 

with the leaves ; — 
Sate in his massive oaken chair of square substantial mould, 
(Our gilded shams and thin veneers— (^things made but to be sold 
And v/hoso buys them, is ' ': old" too) — were things unknown of 

old) 
Sate, pipe in mouth and sent the fumes in whirls on whirls 

above, 
The bodily presentment of a "cloud-compelling Jove."' 
How, in due time, a merry brood of fair-haired urchins played 
Within the old manorial hall, and in its forest's shade ; — 
How the twelve pounds of "niggerhead' and the twelve pipes of 

clay 
Failed not, for ten swift years, to come, on the expected day ; — 
And how Sir Eudolph — (now a knight — ne'er braver took the 

field)— 
Wore a tobacco-pipe of gold emblazoned on his shield. 
And to-day, the last descendant of his old and honored line 
Keeps an ale-house about three miles off as you go towards the 

Rhine. 
(The ale he draws, I'll swear to you, n'a pas hesoin d'enseign) — 
A burly, jovial fellow. — The place is very old ; 
By its quaint sign you'll know it — a tobacco pipe of gold." 

We close our notice of the volume reluctantly. We wish Mr. 
Cruet would take courage, and instead of trying his little craft 
on the mill-pond of friendship, that he would at once venture 
forth upon the ocean of public opinion. Propitious airs invite 
his prow ; and we stand on the shore ready to say— God speed ! 



LANDSCAPE, ETC. 

Not WITHSTANDING the prevalent opinion that our power to 
enjoy natural scenery is an acquired taste, oJ which the people of 
antiquity were as little conscious as the Iliad is of Eros, the 
inference is irresistible, that a people so delicately appreciative 
of the beautiful in form and espressicn, to judge them by their 
poetry, their eloquence, and their glyphic remains, could not have 
been insensible to the diverse and ever varying beauty of the 
landscape. 

Let us believe that they had landscape painters among them. 
True, we have no evidence that they had, but does this amount to 
proof that such evidence may not, at some time, have existed? Time 
levels pyramids ; and how do we know what we may not have lost 



52 HARVEST. 

by its operation ou sucli delicate materials as tiiose to tlie cus- 
tody of which the painter commits his name and fame ? The 
poet alone seems beyond the reach of the Destroyer. The pain- 
ter can but deprecate where the poet can defy. Their landscape 
painters and their paintings are gone, supposing, as we fondly 
do, that they ever really existed; but in the evidence which their 
poets furnish, we have more than enough to justify our presump- 
tion. 

The sentiment of naiure is assthetically identical with that of 
sculpture, poetry, painting, &c., the effect produced by any of 
them within the mind, being the same, the difference being only 
as to the avenue of sense through which it is reached. 

It is not our feelings that are new ; it is our modes of thought 
and expression. Men had not always, nor indeed up to a late 
period, have they had the same resources of expression that they 
have now by critical consent. The employment of common 
names in typical or abstract senses, was almost unknown. 

We feel confident that so late as Addison's time, much of our 
best poetry would have been rejected on the score of its incom- 
prehensibility. We can fancy how a critic of that period would 
have received a poem containing such a line as 

"The purple silence of the Lombard hills." 

The critic who would have rejected this glorious verse as sheer 
nonsense, would have been delighted with Campbell's : 
" 'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, 
And robes the mountain in its azure hue." 

Thus it is not so true that the ancients had not as keen an eye 
for nature as we have, as that ampler resources enable us to com- 
municate more fully and truthfully our impressions of nature. 
Perhaps that fine sj^mpathj'- of I\Ir. Buskin's with external nature, 
which so often " overflows itself in words" of glory, only wanted 
in Virgil and Horace to have attained a like measure, the laborious 
observation which Mr. Ruskin confesses to have given to it. It 
is not one alone of the Carmina of Horace, that is a complete 
landscape in itself — 

"Where quiet waters taking on their way, 
Tibur so fair and fertile, and groves dim 

"With matted branches" 

leave us nothing to desire . 



LYRICS OF LIQUOR. 

(Feb. 5, 1868.) 
Whatever sins and shortcomings may be laid to the charge of 
wine, under which generic name of course every highly exhilara- 
ting beverage must be included, the Muses have no right to com- 



HARVEST. 53 

plain. Tobacco may or may not be a powerful aid to poetic 
fancy. Indeed, Master Jolin Phillips, who wrote a poem on Cider, 
many years ago, never, except in that poem— and he wrote 
many— forbore to put in a good word for tobacco. It is reason- 
able to presume, that if he had not found in it a ready help to 
imagination, he would not have been so ready to speak in its 
praise. Be that as it may, wine appears to be necessary to 
poetry. Horace and many others have borne respectable testi- 
mony to this fact. What would Moore's poetiy be but for the 
^'smi'es and v\due," of which it chiefly treats ? Of all the media3- 
val rhymed Latin, how little is likely to cnilure for ever but 
that portion which celebrates the praises of wiue. 

"Sit mihi lagena 
Ad summum plena." 

The poor fellow's head does not ache to-day, at all events, who 
first gave such poetical utterance to so ordinary an aspiration. 
Eeligious feeling, too, seems to have thrived in those days. 
Indeed, there seemed to be then a stronger than a mere allitera- 
tive affinity between piety and potation. Take for example the 
words of a hearty drinker : 

"Deus sit propitius 
Huic potatori." 

Man's relations to his neighbor, too, seemed to be wonderfully 
improved. What, tor instance, shows a more unselfish consider- 
ation for the comfort of others, than that ascribed to the Aunt of 
Mr. Martin Hannegan : 

"Here's a health to M-irtin Hannegan's Aunt, 

And I"ll tell you the rayson why ; 
She ates bekase she is hungry, 

An' she dhrinks bekase she is dhry. 
An' if iver a man 
Stopped the coorse of a can, 
Martin Hannegan's Aunt would cry ; 
Arragh, fiU up yer glass. 
An' let the jug pass- 
How do you know but yer neighbor's dhry ?" 

We like the idea of giving a reason for drinking a health, and 
the reason here given is logically sound. Martin's Aunt evident- 
ly liked a healthy circulation of the fluids . She did not like to 
see the guests to whom the jug was passing, kept long in sus- 
pense. No one but an over suspicious person would impute the 
lady's eagerness for the rapid passage of the jug to the pleasure 
she felt herself at its speedy return. It is too commonly said 
that whiskey inflames the fiercer passions, but here is a little 
lyrical morceau which would incline one to a contray belief : — 
' ' Musha Kitty ahager d'ye know what ? 
Sure my blagu-a-ard has listed, 



54 HARVEST. 

But to tell ye tlie thruth it's little I care ; 
For, faix I often wished it 
Almost immediately afterwards, showing an amiable insincer- 
ity in this utterance, the lady says or rather sings : — 
' ' Musha, Kitty ahager give us a dhrop 

For don'fc ye see Fm in sorrow ; 
And '/ 1 had but my shift to ' 'pop" 
I'd give you a "throw" to-morrow." 
The lady's benevolent intention in this case should not excite 
the less admiration because her shiftless condition rendered its 
accomplishment an impossibility. 



THE MOUNTAIN STEEAM. 
Drop 
By 

Drop, 
Trickling slow, 
From the cloud-swathed 
Mountain top, 
In a wee receptacle 
Of the rock, I form a well, 
And I grow, and grow, and grow, 
Till at last I overflow, 
And quietly I steal away 

Down the side of the mountain gray. 
What is this ? As I move along, 
I grow more broad, and I grow more strong. 
Ha, ha ! I'm free. I have grown to a rill. 
And I leap, in the sunshine, down the hill, 
Mine is no sickly strain, but a song 
From Freedom caught as the livelong day 
Flashing and foaming I bound along. 
A precipice yawns o'er a rocky ledge ! 
Sport for me ! as over the edge, 
Down I leap, and out from the spray 
Merrily, merrily huiry away. 
Away, away, away, away ; 
Through ancient woods, where twilight dwells, and out athwart 

green meads. 
Where sunshine sleeps the live-long day, and breezes bend the 

reeds. 
I leave the village on my right ; pass near the church so still ; 
I wash the fleeces on my way, and turn the lazy mill. 
But hark, that e'er recurring sound booming so sullenly ! 
Becerve my ever coming stream, oh grand, mysterious sea ! 



HARVEST. 55 

FROM HORACE, 

Ad Virgilium. 
(Car. Lib I: 3.7 
So may the goddess Cyprus' isle adores — 

So, Helen's brothers, stars of lucid glow, 
And Father iEolus direct thy course, 

Letting but fair winds blow, 
Ship, which with Virgil to thy charge this day 
Committed sailest — half my soul and more — 
That thou may'st bear him, fervently I pray, 

Safe to the Attic shore. 
Swathed was his heart in oak and triple brass 

Who, with frail plank the rude remorseless sea, 
Was first to take. Of winds with winds a-clash. 

But little fear had ho. 
No fear had he of tearful Hyades 

Nor of the south wind than which, when it raves. 
No despot more capricious Adria sees 

R-iise or put down the waves. 
What way of death could fill his soul with awe 

Who, on sea monsters steadily looked down — 
Unmoved, huge seas and high Ceraunia saw, 

Those rocks of ill renowTi y 
Country from country, all in vain, has Jove 

Cut off by the um-econciling sea : 
The bounding ships, the very shoals above — 

Dash on defiantly. 
By aught on earth — by aught in heaven unawed, 

The human race to all things would aspire. 
The daring child of Japetus, by fraud 

Brought down to mortals fire. 
For which consumption and a mighty host 

Of fevers dire befall the human race. 
Death, tardy once, his former slowness lost, 

And comes with rapid paca. 
Dfedalus through the inane air his course 

Attempted upon wings himself had wrought ; — 
Broke through to Acheron Herculean force ; 

Man stops at naught. 
Insane, the very heavens we essay, 

Permitting not in our presuming pride. 

The observant, angry Deity to lay 

His thunderbolts aside. 



66 HARVEST. 

# :^ c le r p t ^ . 

1868. 
THE INTERNATIONAL SCHUETZEN-FEST. 
eTuLY at last. The days of Eobiu Hood, 
Seemed to liave dawned once more in Jones's V/ood, 
The rifles rattle and the far-off targe 
Declares good shooting, pierced at each discharge ; 
Until his hand our lucky Knebel tries, 
And fobs a thousand dollars as his prize. 
Strange that our Feiss and Schumaker just then 
Are winning target prizes in Vienne. 

THE E. D. SCHUETZEN-FEST. 
And now, in Myrtle Avenue Park once more, 
As friendlj'- rivals meet our Schuetzen Corps ; 
The birds grow less at each succeeding fire. 
Till Kretzmer yields his crown to Hilkemeier ; 
For whom is still in store, one new delight ; 
A King to-day, he'll have a prince to-night. 

LET THERE BE LIGHT. 
Hear no vain utterance. Ere ten years are o'er, 
The age of feeble glims will be no more. 
And many a street, where countless lamps we view, 
Will then be lit from end to end by two. 
Gas lamps wall then no more offend our gaze, 
Than tallow dips — "The Lights of other days." 

18 6 9. 
How oft in the Conservatory, Taste, 
'Twas thine, to be a pleased and welcome guest, 
While Mollenhauer ruled the lyric storm ; its roar 
Now like to that of breakers on the shore. 
And the succeeding instant, heard to die, 
And dwindle to the echo of a sigh. 

THE E. D. SCHUETZEN-FEST. 

Again we've gone to see the men of mark 
Do splendid feats in Myrtle Avenne Park. 
At the last contest of our Schuetzen Corps, 
'Twas rather late before the work was o'er, 
The Vocjels taxed the shooters' powers enough, 
But Charley's Vogels were not quite so tough. 
However, Tietjen brought his eagle down 
And bore away from Hilkemeier the crown. 

THE NEW FIRE DEPARTMENT. 
Fires have become less frequent nowadays, 
We've our Paid Fire Department — mid it pays. 



HARVEST. 57 

THE ELECTION FRAUDS. 

Ah ! justice calls for satisfaction still, 
But will she get it ? Morris says she will. 
The Koman Fasces in a dream we saw, 
Those civic rods which once held crime in awe. 
To each was fixed a scroll, and under all, 
Verba, non verhera was written small. 

OUR EVENING SCHOOLS. 
Behold our Evening Schools. More good, from these 
Will come, than from our Universities. 
We, for our future citizens, shan't blush. 
With Evening Schools and Principals like Bush.* 

1870. 
Delighted, Terpsichore's votar}^ 

Scans the long list of festivals gay — 
The bail of the Y. P. C. Coterie 

And that of the I. M. S. A.— 
(Our feelings thereat, how exj)ress them ? 

We'll prize it while memory runs — 
Wishing health to the ladies— God bless them. 

And health to the " Irishmen's Sons)." 

SCHUETZEN KING. 

By and by you'll see the vogels from the mast-head tumble down, 

And cheers will ring from every side, while Hunken wins his crown* 

THE PICKELHAUBEN GUARD. 

Ho ! wherefore is it, neighbor, that this raw December day 

Eide scarlet-dressed, with lance in rest, those Uhlans up 
Broadway ? 

Whence those fierce, fur-capped hussars too, whose green jackets 
flout the air. 

While their horses' necks time haughtily the band of Martin 
Mayer ? 

Whence those men in si^ike-topped helmets and steel breast- 
plates bright and hard ? 

They have just arrived from Europe. They're the Pickelhauben 
guard. 

And don't you see who follow V Wilhelm, Fritz and Carl his 
brother. 

And Bismark, and old Moltke, deep in talk with one another. 

Not long ago thej'- visited, disguised, this common-weal. 

The King as Conrad Peterson, and Moltke as George Giehl. 

* Edward Bush, Esq., of School No. 18. 



58 HARVEST. 

They go to capture High Ground Park, it being by all regarded 
As the place whence Paris — fated town ! — can now be best 
bombarded. 

1871. 
A REMINISCENCE. 

The Westfield's hideous holocaust to-day, 
Kemembered gives our blood the chill of clay. 
Alas ! no retribution for the wrong ! 

Vain struggle of the people with the loids, 
Who sway it o'er them and will do it long, 

Through tools obsequious and abundant hoards. 
Opinion's weak, but these be wondrous strong, 

And vain, O vain un-venal Neilson's words ; 
For words don't make the arguments just now, 
To which most people — even jurors— bow. 

. THE SCHUETZEN-FEST. 
Ho ! Myrtle Avenue's pleasant Park once more ! 

Once more the vocjeVs on the mast-head mounted. 
The Eastern District sees her Schuetzen Corps, 

March green apparelled to the station wonted, 
Headed by Kohlmeier. Ere the day is o'er. 

We see the bird bicephalous dismounted. 
Next with loud cheers the green recesses ring, 
And Wesscls all greet with " Long live the King." 

LOCAL GROWTH. 
OuE numerous architects since the year began, 

Have not been idle. This the year's work shows, 
Ditmars has thrown off many a noble plan. 

Whose ruined archetypes in Greece repose. 
And many a one for modern taste to scan. 

'Neath Gaylor's eye the iron column rose. 
Building was active : Kodwell, Gibbous, Cannon, 
Kohlmeier, Hesse, Brady, were its sine qua non. 
Would you see something perfect in its way, 

Seek the Apollo Rooms on Fifth Street, where 
Color and Form combine in a display, 

With which we know of few things to compare. 
Of Charley Hayes we're proud and v/ell we may 

Hearing his praises echoed everywhere. 
Be proud of one whose hand's artistic touch 
For local art's advance has done so much. 



o o isr Tm nsTTs . 



PAGE. 

Prefatory Note 3 

BALLADS OF THE 'BURGH. 

Ye Lay of Ye Houseless Howard 5 

Oflf to Little Neck 

The Greenpoint Oyster Merchant 6 

The Man who jumped to reach the Boat 6 

Oh my Umbrella 8 

Mr. Timothy O'Flanagan's Account of the Museum, New York 8 

Hans Klein 10 

Where has the Butcher gone, Sonny? 12 

The Bull Chase in Greenpoint 13 

Clam-ant in Eremo 13 

The Reconciliation 14 

Stranded 17 

Forgot to Come Back. 18 

The Goose March on Bedford Avenue 18 

How Dobson Paid his Board 19 

Smg of a Sewing Machine 20 

Called for the Clothes 20 

An Incident of the Second Battle of Bull Run . 21 

The Magic Lantern 21 

A Bell-Ringer's Dream. 22 

A Pipe Lay 22 

Carl Anschutz and the King of Prussia 23 

"Whiskey in Columbia County 24 

An Incident of St. Patrick's Day 25 

Tale of a Duck 2.5 

The Yacht Bertha 26 

The Wood Musketeers 27 

The Green Rangers 27 

The Supper in Thessaly 28 

EPIGRAMS. 

On the Burning of the City Hall Cupola, New York 29 

On one who writes wicked Epigrams, &c 29 

An Astronomical Argument 29 

An Old Lady boasts that she moves in Fashionable Circles 29 

Inscription for an Ink-Bottle 29 

An Old Riddle Answered 29 

A Riddle which has never been answered 30 

The Devil a " Sine Qua Non~' 3^ 

Thoughts 3Q 

Persevere .. . g 

Prtevalebit SI 



The Reason. 



31 



On a Pedantic Pedagogue 31 

Coincidences ^l 

The Flight of Time 31 



Tempora Mutantur Et Nos Mutamur 32 

The Fog 32 

Trouble in Heaven 32 

Palman Qui Meruit Ferat 33 

Vale 33 

On Ower True Tale 33 

The Parisian Lover and his Pigeon 33 

The Poor Man's Harvest 34 

On Viewing T. R. Gould's Statue of the "West Wind" 34 

Petitio Passeris 34 

Lines to C. W. Douglas 34 

On a Brother and Sister 35 

Christopher Cruet and his Pipe 35 

SONGS, TOASTS, &c. 

Song— The Old Liberty Pole 36 

The same 36 

A Ditty of Greenpoint 37 

Coney Island 37 

Song 37 

Toast 38 

From the German 38 

HEXAMETER AND PENTAMETER. 

Rural 3& 

By the Sea-Side 3& 

In the Woods 39 

Rockaway Beach .- 4^ 

A Bit of Landscape 40 

Sample of a New Translation of Virgil 40 

Peace 41 

Written on the Site of Throop Avenue Church 41 

MISCELLANEOUS. 

La D) vina Comedia Nuova 42 

On the March 43 

The Classical View of Woman 45 

Carmen Americanum 47 

La Pipe D'Or and other Poems 48 

Landscape, &c. 51 

Lyrics of Liquor 52 

The Mountain Stream 54 

From Horace 55 

EXCERPTS— 1868— 1869— 1870-1871. 



